#but i took it as one bc i had a sudden epiphany

[bolithesenate]

The origin of Sifo's hair loopies?

"Jo, what are you doing?," Sifo tried to peer at her busy fingers doing... something with a section of hair at the side of his forehead.

"Hush, hold still." She sent him a cautionary jab over the Force, concentrated solely on her little project. "I just learned how to do this, so don't fuck this up."

What 'this' was got revealed to Sifo-Dyas about half an hour later as he peered curiously into a reflective bit of a spoon (due to grievous lack of mirrors in the Archives). He tilted his head, shaking it a bit, the movement sending Jocasta's hairdresserial masterworks (?) swaying.

"And what are they?," he asked again, looking at his very proud looking friend.

"It's a Knight-braid," Jocasta said proudly, "I learned about them when I visited Jedha. Apparently they fell out of fashion already back in Grandmaster Sunrider's time, but there's still records of how to do them."

Sifo looked back into the spoon. Shook the braids some more. "Knight braids, huh," he murmured, "I've never heard of those. You sure that was a real thing that existed?"

She shrugged, already going back to her half-finished kaf she'd gotten before their little pause mid mission-prep. It must have been ice cold by now, Sifo would never understand how she could still drink it like that.

"Does it matter if they did?," she quipped back, before downing the contents of the cup. "They're cute and they suit you. Way better than that stupid beard Yan has been growing out."

Oh, so this was about the beard.

Sifo should have known.

"Maybe if it grows long enough you can braid that too?," he couldn't help but tease her, "You know, get some old traditions up and going again? Maybe start a new trend while you're at it?"

All he got was a look that could have shock-frozen Mustafar twice over. "Do not," she mocked throwing the kf cup at him, "even joke about that, Sifo. I'd rather personally shave down Master Tyvokka before touching that... thing."

Sifo laughed, fingers already reaching to play with the new braids. They were fun. "Oh, don't act like that. You can't fault him for trying to hide his babyface. There's been talks of him getting offered a Council Seat, you know. He's been stressing out over it all month."

"And his solutions to that was to grow a beard over it?" Jocasta sounded dubious. "I don't know. Sounds like a case for the mind healer to me."

"Oh shut it," he flicked her though the Force, "I think it looks stately."

"Of course you do." Her defiant murmur was barely audible, buried behind the datapad she'd pulled out. "Suckup."

"Not everyone is on a crusade against all facial hair like you are," Sifo singsonged happily, ignoring her dramatic mood (it was mostly an act anyways). "A bit of self expression won't do our dear Yan any harm."

Jocasta's face darkened further. "Not him maybe, but just see how you'll feel about it when it gives you beard-burn. That shit sucks."

Sifo snickered. "Advice taken."

"I'm serious, Sy."

"And I'll keep it in mind, Jo." He scooted over to her, flinging one of the newly installed braids against her cheek. "Plus, you've given me the weapons to defend myself now, haven't you?"

With an annoyed groan, Jocasta simply reached out, quick as lightning, and grabbed Sy's entire face, pushing him away. "Stop that you little kriffer," she complained, "I'm already regretting this, just so you know."

Sifo let himself be pushed away. Then he waited a few moments, before immediately diving back in, tackling his smaller friend in a hug. "Nahh," he said happily, rubing his face against her side, "You love me. You love the braids. Show me how to do them myself?"

"You're gonna keep them?," she asked, peering down on him. It was evident that she was flattered by the idea. Flattered that he'd liked them.

Sifo grinned up at her. "Of course. As I said, I gotta be able to beat back Yan's beard-attacks, don't I."

"Hmm." She looked off, clearly fighting down a smile. "I'll see what I can do."

#lol i wasn't sure if this was a prompt or not #but i took it as one bc i had a sudden epiphany #tbh ive thought about the origin of the loopies before #and theres many ideas ive been toying with #but them being smt that my favorite history nerd jocasta dug out from somewhere and then just installed on him is my fave one #sometimes you gotta let your friends do stuff to your hair #random boli thoughts #star wars #jocasta nu #sifo dyas #me writing #answering asks #⛏️⛏️⛏️ #also yes i hc jocasta to be an absolute beard hater #why? because my mom is and it's a constant source of jokes in my family

[naoyaslut]

Hi! I'm that person from ao3 who wants more geto incest fic. Can I request a fic where after geto killed the villagers, he returned home to kill his parents just like the manga, and he planned to kill his little sister too, but then he found other ways (if you know what I mean) to detach from non sorcerers. So he r**ped her in her sleep (or not, go whichever you prefer) and found out she's a virgin... Until him of cours. Can you please make it super angsty? BC I love pain 😔 and geto might cry

This took me a while as it's out of the norm and what I do not normally write, but I hope it fits your expectations.

NSFW! +18 only!

tw: sibcest, rape, dubious consent, mention of killing, murder, blood, angst.

w.count - 2.3k

Suguru wrinkled his nose in disgust as he continues to run his hands underneath the spray of warm water underneath the bathroom sink.  The whole house reeked of the metallic stink of blood, blood that belonged to his own parents, both his mother, and father. 

It couldn’t be helped, rather their deaths have been sooner than later they were destined to perish.  He made the determination that it was his responsibility to put an end to their miserable human lives.  The house was now empty or so he assumed, and the silence was eerily loud aside from the soft ticking of a clock nearby.

Lifting his obsidian gaze to stare at the unfamiliar reflection in the mirror of the dimly lit bathroom, he saw nothing different or out of sorts.  He felt no different, it was the same person he’d always seen looking back at him except he was no longer coated in a dried layer of blood. 

Even after taking the liberty to end his own parents, he still felt zero sympathies.  There was no guilt, no anguish, and there certainly was no regret.  There was an inkling of something in the depths of his chest, an emotion that he couldn’t quite pinpoint.  But it wasn’t for his creators who laid stiff, the flame of life having been snuffed out by their only son.

It was for his little sister.  She was the next flame to be extinguished.  Even though Suguru knew what must be done, for the first time in his entire journey he was unsure.

Running his fingers through his damp hair, he cast a glance over to the open door watching as the steam from his earlier shower drift out into the hall.  A faint thump sounded overhead causing Suguru to narrow his eyes in confusion.

Your parents were supposed to be the only ones home at the time, no one else was supposed to be here.  Your younger sister, who you’d have to go after at a later time was supposed to be away at school on campus.

Tightening the towel around his waist, Suguru stepped out into the hall and began to ascend the three-story home checking each room on the way up only to see that they were empty.  Once he came to the end of the hall, he noticed that the stairs leading to the attic were unlatched and pulled down.

There was a pair of house shoes sitting at the bottom of the ladder along with a navy-blue gym bag with your college’s acronym printed on it. 

The confusion that had set in earlier slowly began to dissipate.  The realization that you were in the house dawned upon him in a sudden epiphany.

Slowly, Suguru began to climb the ladder until he emerged glancing around the extra room.  The attic used to be his old bedroom, in high school.  From the looks of it, nothing had changed.  Most of his things still resided, even the queen-sized mattress that was positioned conveniently in the middle of the room. 

And there you were, lying in the middle of the mattress wrapped snugly in an oversized blanket that used to belong to him.  You slept peacefully, the chest rising gently in cadence with your breathing.  It was a shame that you were born human.

The only way to achieve the world he believed in, humans, they all must perish.  That included you, his darling little sister. 

Holding the towel at his waist Suguru crossed the room quietly, standing at the end of the mattress, and watched you for a short while.  You were clueless, ignorant of everything that had taken place in this house before it got to this point. 

Your face was serene, calm, and you appeared almost as innocent as you did when you were children.  You were always quite the sweetest sibling, the little sister who could do no wrong.  And even as Suguru began to change over the course of these years, you still held him dear and close to your heart.

Suguru knew that in your eyes, he could do no wrong.  He could spill his guts out to you right now and he was positive that you would forgive him, you would comfort him, and you would still consider him to be your loving big brother.

Another sudden pang of guilt hit Suguru in the chest while he observed you.  The fact that your life would be snuffed out without knowing the reason why made something sit uncomfortably in the pit of his gut.

Suguru’s jaw tightened in apprehension and before he realized what he was doing, his hands gripped hold of the comforter that you were wrapped in pulling it from around your form.

You awakened suddenly, startled by the quick action.  Your eyes were wide in surprise as they darted from each corner of the room until they landed on Suguru standing at the end of the mattress.

“S-Sugu-nii? Is that you?” your voice was strained, still heavy with sleep one of your hands pressed to your bosom as if to suppress your beating heart.  “You scared the hell out of me, what are you doing here?”

You hadn’t seen Suguru in… years?  And here he was in the flesh, much older and bigger than you remembered him to be.  He had aged, not excessively, but he was no longer the lanky teenage brother you remember from middle school. 

Something had changed.  And you could see it in the way he stood and the way his eyes glassed over in what seemed to be despair.

Suguru stared in silence, his eyes going over every inch of your exposed body.  You were wearing a matching lingerie set, black lace. 

Suguru hadn’t laid eyes on you since you were in high school.  Years.  And here you were, all grown up, your body soft and pliable as proof.  

He watched as you tried to shield yourself with your hands, confusion, and embarrassment devouring you from the inside out.

“Sugu-nii… what’s wrong?” grabbing the pillow you’d been sleeping on earlier you attempted to shield yourself from his view.

Something was off.  Suguru stood deathly still dark eyes boring into your much smaller form with the intensity of a blazing fire.

The last time he greeted you was with a warm hug and a farewell.  Suguru had always greeted you with a teasing smile, a playful lilt to his soothing voice.  But you knew something simply wasn’t right, due to his aura.  He looked tired, he looked to be a man who was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He still stood motionless at the end of the mattress; the expression he wore was unreadable.

Where were your parents?  What’s going on?

Before you could inquire any further about the reason Suguru was here in the middle of the night, you were pushed off balance Suguru’s much larger form now pinning you down against the mattress of the bed.

Both of his hands were clasped around your throat tightly, slowly cutting off your air supply.  Struggling beneath him, your feet kicked wildly your own hands clawing at his own at an attempt at relief.

“I’m sorry,” Suguru spoke so sweetly, quietly while one of his hands retreated from your throat to cradle the side of yours while he leaned in to press his forehead against your own.

“S-Sugu-nii,” you replied, unsure of what caused the sudden shift in his normally cool calm, and collected nature.  “W-what’s wrong?”

Suguru overpowered you, his wide frame unmoving even as you had begun to push at his abdomen.  You were unable to utter another word with the combination of your heart thudding against your ribcage fear grasping at your throat igniting a deep-seated fear within your gut.

Your hands slid against his solid stature; he was still damp from the shower he had taken in the moments earlier, the beginning of tears beginning to seep from the corners of your eyes. 

You were afraid.  Although he was no longer choking you, he seemed to be fighting an internal battle the tips of his fingers still applying pressure into your jugular indecisively.

Suguru was hesitating.  He still held you firmly in place, listening to your erratic breathing and the sobs that had begun to rack your body. 

One of your hands clutched onto the towel that was now hanging loosely at his slender waist while straddling you. 

It was painful.  The thought of silencing someone who he still deemed to be so innocent in his eyes, was there no way to save his little sister?

Maybe there was a way.  Just like he was, she was destined for something better.  He could make use of her, maybe he didn’t have to kill her.  There were other ways to ensure his precious sister would be used to her full potential.

Suguru breathed out long and slow, placing a hand on your cheek cradling you while resting his forehead against yours.

“Y/n…” he began, he waited until your sobs died down and your eyes opened to meet his own. “I love you and your big brother would do anything for you, you know that don’t you?”

You nodded frantically; your hands still clasped in the loosening towel that was hanging onto his waist by a flimsy knot.

Taking in a deep breath you sobbed once more, nodding your head up and down with tear-filled eyes.

“Y-yes, I know,” squeezing your eyes shut, you found yourself clinging to Suguru for dear life.  Tears still streamed down your cheeks while you tried to contain your fear. 

Suguru pulled away from you his face stern and eyebrows pulled back into a worrisome expression.  He began talking, slowly, and quietly as if he’d startle you if he raised his voice.

“Humans… are vile, y/n,” swiping a thumb over your cheek, he watched as your expression contorted from fear into confusion.  “Mom, Dad, I had to kill them both and you are next on the list unless you do exactly what I tell you to do, do you understand?”

No. No, you didn’t understand.  What on earth was he getting at?  You began to shake your head in denial while his words sank in, but you said nothing and just stared at him in disbelief. 

He repeated himself once more, his thumb swiping over the round of your cheeks to wipe away the continuous stream of tears that were falling.

This time you nodded that you understood, apprehension blooming in your chest at the way his eyes seemed to bore into your soul.

“I knew you’d understand, although you’re flawed, you will be perfect,”

Your confusion began to turn into dread, still unsure of what Suguru was getting at.  His hand that still cradled your wet face began to draw you more near the plush of his lips pressing against your own. Your initial response was shock.  Your eyes were wide still brimming with tears and then alarm bells set off at the back of your head while the wet warmth of his tongue parted your lips to delve inside.

Squirming beneath him you pushed at his shoulders panic-struck only to cease your movements abruptly when his hand was wrenched around your throat once more. 

His face impassive, he clicked his tongue in distaste at your erratic behavior. 

“You said you’d be good, didn’t you? Don’t you love your brother?” he asked lamely, one of his eyebrows lifting curiously.  “Be good for me… and I promise I’ll protect you from all that is wrong with this world,”

He didn’t wait for a response his free hand grabbed at the elastic band of your black underwear before he pulled at them hastily, the fabric stretching and then snapping under the strain.

“Nii-chan,” your words were strained, barely escaping your throat while you succumbed to your older brother’s actions. 

His towel was hastily thrown askew, giving you a full-frontal view of the throbbing erection between his legs. 

“The only way to save you from your despicable existence, is for you to birth more sorcerers,” Fitting himself between your thighs, he palmed himself, pressing the rosy tip, glistening with pre against the puffy lips of your cunt.

Suguru faltered if only momentarily, surprised he didn’t just slip inside from the amount of slick that nestled between your folds.  He pursed his lips at the way your body tensed around him, more tears rolling down your face and into your ears.

He was skeptical.  He was sure that his beautiful little sister had plenty of admirers.  Hell, he practically had to beat his own friends off you.  The way that your pussy was already damp, and drooling told him every that he needed to know, that you were waiting for him, waiting to accept everything that he was about to give you.

“S-Sugu-nii, please stop,” you whimpered underneath him, taking in another shaky breath.  “It hurts…”

Suguru sucked in a deep breath as he continued to push against you, one of his free hands resting at your cheek as if to soothe you.  He shushed you momentarily, his eyes fixated on the apex of your thighs where the two of you were nearly connected.

“Shh, it's alright I’m going to take care of you… trust your big brother,”

It was as if he suddenly had an epiphany, his lips drawing back into an almost painful smile while continuing to work himself deeper, ignoring the vice-like grip your insides were subjecting him to.

“You’re a virgin,” he hissed, his girth bullying its way past that tight ring of tissue until his pelvis was nestled completely flush against the fat of your ass.

He ignored your reaction, your hands that were still pushing weak, but frantically at his chest to get him to stop.  Although you were silent, tears were still shed as he began to rut inside of you. 

“You waited for me,” Suguru announced, hips coming and going, the sound of the wet friction between your now sweat-slicked bodies echoing in the room.  This was perfect, the two of you would be perfect forever for one another. 

“Why didn’t I see this sooner?”

This way, he wouldn’t have to take the life of his sweet sister.  You’d be safe, you had potential. Once he pumped you full of his seed, you’d have no choice but to create and carry another just like him. 

[bratkook]

right now. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost , right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, smut, idiots to lovers!! word count. 14.8k warnings. two mega fucking idiots<33, miscommunication/dumb assumptions, smut in forms of: fingering, oral sex (f.), orgasm denial, spanking, some spit bc duh, unprotected sex, super sweet & lovey!! also jungkook is a sweetheart pls love him summary. coming to terms with your feelings after getting off to the idea of your close friend is a little harder than you thought, but how long can you take before jungkook decides its time to move on? note. did jlin forget how to write for a few weeks? yes, yes she did....i know this took a long time but life is rough man so forgive me... but anyways lol the final part to the not yet!verse is hereeeee! thank you to @kithtaehyung​ for reading this over for me ily!! thank you guys for enjoying this mini series, the response was really unexpected but im sososo happy over every comment/ask i’ve gotten for this story. once again, tysm for your love and let me know what you think<3

The evening sun illuminates Jungkook’s apartment, golden hour bouncing off every reflective surface and straight into his eyes the second he walks in, immediately squinting as he makes a beeline to shut the blinds. His head was already throbbing from the hangover that decided to peak around noon, a mean case of nausea putting a damper on his work day. So as much as he loved soaking in some vitamin D today was not the day. 

“Are you joking?” he huffs as he brings down the blinds, hand yanking at the flimsy string in an attempt to get it unstuck. “How stup—you’d think with the amount I pay every month in rent the blinds would work!” 

Alright, so maybe he was a little grumpy today, choosing to take it out on an inanimate object and blame it purely on the bad decisions made last night—definitely had nothing to do with the residual moping of you going on a date. This could be fixed, easily. 

The first order of business? Texting you to see if you’d be interested in devouring greasy food from your favorite place down the street. He’d get to see you and finally put something in his stomach, it’s the best of both worlds really. 

Jungkook forgets about the blinds, leaving them stuck in the awkward position as he walks away entirely, fishing his phone out of his pocket while he enters his room. It’s the same text he always sends when he’s hangry: If I don’t get food in the next 15 mins I'm burning this place down and taking you with me. 

He knows the response he’ll get, either that meme of the child in front of a burning house or an equally hangry paragraph. The phone gets tossed onto his bed as he changes out of his work clothes, needing to dispose of the business casual attire that was suffocating him, his old college hoodie giving him the comfort he needs. 

By the time he’s finally slipping on his sneakers he’s expecting you to come knocking on his door, your impatient attitude always putting a smile on his face. Half of the time your neighbors thought you were having arguments from the way you’d pound onto the slab of wood, saying his name with just enough annoyance laced into each syllable it would fool anyone into thinking you were actually upset instead of being a brat. But when that never comes, he reaches for his phone again. 

A few notifications fill up his screen, some instagram direct message previews, his group chat that he never responded to, and a few emails coming through, but you had yet to respond. Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Jungkook knows you’re home because he passed by your parked car on his way in. So his mind jumps to two extremes: you were either face down, drowning in your bathtub, or that yellow shades wearing wannabe version of himself was at your place. 

Not an ounce of shame sits within him as he speedwalks to the side his bed was on, placing both palms onto the wall before his ear was pressed against the cold drywall. Jungkook’s not really sure what would make him feel good, hearing you and Jung Hoseok together, or hearing nothing at all. His ears strain to hear anything, but the only sound he gets is his own blood pumping. 

With a small pout he pulls back, deciding he’d play the annoying neighbor role today and pound on your door instead. It’s a role he doesn’t take lightly, knuckles banging on the wood loud enough for you to hear wherever you were in your apartment. It takes a few minutes before any sign of life is shown, your door creaking open, and Jungkook is thankful because he was about to head to the maintenance office to ask for a key in case you actually were drowning in your bathtub. 

“C’mon, let’s get food,” he declares instantly, a charming smile on his face as he stands with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. The smile slowly falls off when he gets a good look at you, hair looking like a mess on your head and your fluffy blanket draped around you as you give out a weak cough. “Are you sick?”

“I think so,” you rasp out, leaning against your door frame and tugging the blanket tighter around you. 

“Did that fucker give you mono?” Jungkook looks irritated, brows pinched together in a grimace—something you’re definitely not accustomed to seeing so you almost don’t catch his accusation.

“Jungkook, no! It’s nothing serious.”

He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugs anyways, positive you weren’t interested in getting interrogated when you were feeling under the weather. “Alright, let me know if you need me to drive you to the doctor if it becomes something serious.”

With a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you wave him off, slowly shutting the door behind you. Your eye immediately peeks through your peephole, not relaxing until he makes his way down the hall and enters the elevator, still on his quest for greasy food. 

“God, how old are you?” you grumble to yourself, yanking the blanket off your body and onto the floor with a huff. Pretending to be sick to avoid your friend was a new low, especially after the post-orgasm epiphany you had last night. A sane person would come to terms with their feelings and confess to them, uncertainty and possible rejection be damned! But you? No, you have to fake a cold like the giant coward you are. 

The guilt only deepens when a knock comes from your door an hour later, a quick peek through your peephole allowing you to see Jungkook setting two plastic bags on the floor before stepping back and walking to his apartment next door. You don’t come out until you hear his door shut, seeing the logo of your favorite diner down the street. No doubt would your comfort meal be inside the takeaway container. 

It takes all you have to not rush over to his place and say you were lying when you see he had also gone ahead and got you cold medication, a few different bottles because he surely didn’t know which was best, along with teas and some cough drops. 

You’re a dirty liar. A horrible friend too. 

That doesn’t stop you from devouring the meal in the takeout box as you’re hunched over your breakfast bar like a little gremlin. “This is just for today,” you mumble out to yourself as you set the plastic fork down and chug some of the leftover alcohol you had in your fridge. It’s your own version of a pity party, except the food feels heavy in your stomach, knowing the man you were avoiding was the one who bought it—bring on the guilt. 

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

You’re a dirty liar and horrible friend 2.0. Why this time? Because tomorrow stretched out a few more days than planned. It wasn’t entirely intentional at first, getting stuck at work longer than usual and missing the weekly hangout at your place where you got your remote covered in cheeto dust as you argued over what to watch. But it trickled down onto shorter replies to his texts, or you scrambling out of your apartment and into the elevator so fast in order to not run into him, your mind still trying to list all the pros and cons to this potential relationship before you even had the guts to confess to your feelings. 

Jungkook didn’t know thats what was occupying your mind, no he was currently thinking the worst. He notices the change instantly, recognizing it because this was the exact way you had acted while you were with Hajoon, right before you broke the news to him that you needed to keep some distance while you focused on your relationship. So Jungkook automatically assumes that your sudden change in behavior after going on a single date with Jung Hoseok, was because you wanted to make your relationship with this man work. 

His assumption stings—a lot actually—and soon enough he stops initiating conversations altogether. He didn’t want to hear you tell him you had to distance yourself again, he’s not sure his heart could handle that a second time, so he decides to get ahead of the curb and take a massive step away from you. It hurts him to know you’re right next door, and just like before, it’s like you’re back to being total strangers. 

Safe to say Jungkook was currently going on his own downward spiral. 

You could text him like nothing had happened and he’d accept it with open arms, but instead you text your best friend an SOS text, begging her to meet you at your place. She calls you dramatic at first, but once you say it’s about Jungkook she shows up at your place in record time. 

“Did you finally fuck him?” Is her greeting of choice, spoken shamelessly from the hallway with no worry about her volume. She cackles when you yank the bottle of wine from her grasp and tug her into your apartment, letting the door slam behind her. 

“You’re lucky he’s not home you bitch.” An eye roll is her only response, yanking the bottle back and making her way into your kitchen to grab the opener. 

“So you didn’t fuck him?” The cork pops at her question, a curious glance staring you down as she pours the red liquid into an oversized cup. 

“No Seulgi, I didn’t fuck him. But I did...something.” It makes your face warm up as you remember it, gratefully grabbing the cup she hands your way because you definitely need some liquid courage before confessing to your sins.

She hums in thought as she raids your pantry for something to munch on, settling on a bag of mini pretzels before leading you to your couch, needing to know the gossip that led to your sos text. “Okay, did you accidentally send him a nude then?”

“No, that wouldn’t be so bad I think?” Sending him an accidental nude would be laughable, probably resolved by a few screaming texts and dumb jokes before moving on. But new feelings seeing the light of day seemed so much worse. “But I sort of kissed him at a club a few weeks ago to get back at Hajoon—long story,” you cut in when you see her ready to fire off questions. 

“And then I went on that failed Tinder date I told you about, and when I got home I sort of heard him, you know,”— you mimic a jerking off motion with your hand and ignore her lewd gasp, “and then I…” you trail off shamefully. 

“No!” she gasps even louder, hand pressed to her mouth and eyes wide. 

“Yes! And the fucking orgasm opened my eyes and made me realize that maybe that tiny crush you guys always joke about him having is real, and maybe I have a tiny crush on him too.”

“Does he know?”

“That I like him?”

“No, that you rubbed one out while listening to him you dirty slut!” Oh she’s loving this, leaning back into your cushions with a handful of pretzels resting on her boobs, a sly smile on her lips as she takes a sip of her wine. She’s the one who planted the seed in your mind, playfully joking about Jungkook any chance she got, saying he had the hots for you because she enjoyed the flustered look on your face. No doubt would she text the group chat with the news the second you finish this cry for help. 

“Do you think I told him? I can barely come to terms with the fact that I like him. Like what am I supposed to do?”

She sighs dramatically, munching on the final pretzel on her tits before sitting up and dusting off the crumbs from her shirt. “Look, I know you’re just realizing that he likes you so this is still new and fresh for you, but we’ve noticed it for years. It’s fine that you didn’t see it, you had other things occupying your mind.” 

You frown as you stare at the rug beneath your feet, remembering how life was when you first moved into this complex. Getting out of a previous relationship weeks prior, when you had met Jungkook your mind was not interested in pursuing anything with him regardless of how cute you thought he was. It made it easier for you to form a friendship, not worried about trying to impress him, or flirt with him, allowing him to see you for who you truly are. 

Jungkook had his fair share of girlfriends during the years, none of which were entirely serious but by the time he was completely single you had met Hajoon, and he had accepted the fact that maybe you were better off as friends and he would just admire you from afar. That is, until you decided to plant one on him. So technically this is your fault. 

“Jungkook likes you okay, and I’m sure if you just marched next door and told him you like him too he’ll drop on one knee and marry you.”

“Shut up,” you snort, shoving her shoulder with a smile. 

“As a matter of fact, go over there right now!” She stands up from her spot, yanking your arms to haul you up with her. 

“I told you, he’s not home. But, I’ll tell him. I have to.”

Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest as she stares at you, clearly displeased that she wouldn’t be witness to this love story unfolding in real time. “You better. You never know what sneaky little bitch is trying to get him to get over you.”

The sneaky little bitch in question is Park Jimin, currently sitting directly across from Jungkook, guzzling down beer like his life depends on it. It's impressive really, how quickly he empties the cup, eyes shut looking as content as could be even in the dim lighting. Jungkook can only watch with a grimace as his friend sets the glass down and wipes at his mouth with no sense of table manners. 

“What?” he burps, proceeding to pour more of the golden liquid into his cup from the pitcher in the middle of the table. 

“I always forget how absolutely disgusting you are. How do you do it?” Jimin just frowns at the question, not entirely understanding so Jungkook continues. “What switch do you flip to go from sipping champagne to chugging beer like a fucking biker.”

“It’s a talent, I know.” He smiles wide, reaching forward to grip Jungkook’s hand and force him to grab his own cup. Condensation was pooling around the bottom from sitting there untouched, and that just wouldn’t do on Jimin’s watch. “C’mon, drink it!”

“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, raising the glass and allowing Jimin to clank the cups together before taking a big gulp. He doesn’t clear the cup like his friend did seconds prior but it's enough to appease him. It tastes absolutely bitter the whole way down, settling into his stomach uncomfortably, and the look on his face as he pushes the glass away from him is very telling. 

Boisterous shouts fill the sports bar they were in, huddles of people surrounding the tables and booths as they watched the current soccer match playing on the televisions lining the walls. Jungkook honestly feels like a debby downer now, moping in his seat instead of enjoying the atmosphere with his friend like they normally did. The current game was definitely not the reason Jungkook had texted Jimin to grab drinks, no he needed an outlet to talk about you—preferably in a space that didn’t have walls as thin as his apartment.  

When he barely acknowledges the plate of wings set in front of him Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to dig in because he knew once he did he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Are you gonna be like this the entire time?”

“Like what?” Jungkook has the gall to ask, acting as if he wasn’t looking like a wounded animal. 

“Like you just discovered your wife of ten years is having an affair with your sister.”

He sits up straighter at that, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus.“

Jimin knew the jist of what was happening through the texts he had received the past week, but it seems like Jungkook didn’t want to jump into the topic of it at all now that they were sitting across from each other. He just sighs before deciding to be honest, wasting no time beating around the bush to hopefully be the voice of reason Jungkook needs. “You’ve been simping over her for years JK, and I get it, you think she could be the one. But what about you huh? It’s not fair for you to have your heart wrung out each time she gets a man and decides to put the friendship on pause—“

“That happened once!” He defends, brows pinched on his forehead as he shakes his head, ready to explain your situation because he wasn’t a fan of hearing his friend say anything about you when he didn’t truly know what happened. “The dude was a piece of shit and basically told her it was him or me. I’m not gonna crucify her for wanting a long term relationship to work.”

“Right, so she’s not icing you out again because she got a new man? That’s literally what you told me, it’s why I bought you this sympathy pitcher of beer!”

“Fuck you, you bought this pitcher for yourself.” Jimin had chugged two giant glasses of beer already, and was steadily working on his third, whereas Jungkook’s watered down cup remained relatively untouched. “Besides, I was just...spiraling and assumed when I sent you that desperate text. But I haven’t heard anything.”

Jimin can only stare blankly at the table as he processes what was just said before locking eyes with his friend once more, “Sorry, what? You haven’t heard anything? The hell kind of riddle is that.”

Jungkook sinks into the booth with a look of shame, not wanting to admit to occasionally laying in his bed at night in complete and total silence just to see if he could hear you and the hypothetical version of Jung Hoseok doing literally anything. It’s not one of his proudest moments, feeling like a bit of a creeper as he laid stiff on his bed, too scared to make a sound.  “Nothing, forget about it. Point is, I haven’t seen the fucker come in or out of her place, so what does that mean?”

A deep sigh comes from Jimin, hand reaching forward to push the beer closer to Jungkook, desperately trying to get him to drink and ease up. “It means you pay far too much attention to her. When was the last time you got any action?”

Two weeks ago. From his hand and filthy imagination. 

“A few months,” he grumbles, remembering his last hook up that happened a few days before he discovered you got dumped. 

“Get outta here.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he points to the door. “Literally, go stand at the corner outside, show some thighs or a tattooed titty and take your pick of the swarm of girls that will surely follow you.”

Jungkook thinks he’s joking, but when his friend doesn’t drop his hand and narrows his eyes threateningly he knows he’s being serious. “My tits aren’t even tattooed,”—his large palms press against his shirt covered chest as if to prove a point— “And you sound like a douchebag talking like this.”

“What? She went on a tinder date and definitely got laid, so you need to even out the playing field. Also, it might help you chill the hell out.”

“Oh my god, you’re not helping.” Jungkook really didn’t need that visual again, it had flashed in his mind too often the night of his pity party and now it was once again at the front of his brain. 

“Alright, okay. I’m throwing out my safe word right now.” Jimin leans closer, arms resting on the table with a confused look on his face. “What do you need from me here? Like, do I play the role of a supportive friend who wants you to get over her, or do I play the role of a friend who wants you to confess? Because you’re giving me some mixed signals Jeon.”

A groan escapes Jungkook, fingers rubbing at his eyes before dragging down his face as he sinks even further into his seat. “I don’t know.” 

It’s the truth. Jungkook had no idea what he wanted his friend to do to help him. He knew that although his feelings for you have weighed heavy on his chest for what seems like years, you technically had no idea, so he feels a little guilty over his frustration for the whole situation. You were newly single again and determined to go through this self proclaimed wild phase so Jungkook isn’t dumb enough to think you can’t go out and do whatever you want, even if that means being with someone who isn’t him. 

“Look,” Jimin sighs, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You only have two choices here, tell her how you feel and accept whatever comes with it, or make peace with the idea of just being friends. Either way, I think you need to loosen up and have fun tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jungkook sits himself up, wrapping his fingers around the cup in an effort to at least look like he wanted to be here. He couldn’t sit here and mope about a problem like this when he hadn’t attempted to come out and tell you how he feels. 

One night of loosening up to get you off his mind wouldn’t hurt, if anything it might help him come to his senses. At least that’s what Jimin was currently whispering with a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure you don’t black out and get home safe. Who knows, you might get plastered enough to drunk text your confession.”

Jungkook glares at his friend, not liking the goofy look on his face as he starts to laugh. “I swear to god, you better not let me get to that point. Take my phone away from me.”

Jimin obviously wants to see the world burn, or at least he enjoys it when Jungkook somehow digs himself into his own grave. That's exactly why he responds with a million laughing emojis when Jungkook texts him asking why the hell he hadn’t taken his phone last night. 

He did a good job hiding his shock when a knock came from his front door, half expecting it to be you, keeping a smile on his face as he allowed  the person who was very clearly not you in before swiftly entering his bathroom. Jungkook wants to stay locked here forever, holed up while he sits on his toilet and not in the living room with company. It wasn’t like it was bad company either, his drunken ass going through his contact list and sending an invitation to hangout the following day to the last person he spoke to, Aillie. 

The girl is sweet, someone he had a casual fling with for months, someone who was used to his random texts so she doesn’t think twice before agreeing. The only silver lining to this was that he hadn’t sent you a typo-filled drunken confession, which is what Jimin responds with before telling him to suck it up and leave his bathroom. 

Jungkook accepts his fate, as well as accepting that he is partially responsible for this. He shoves his device back into his pockets before standing up and flushing the toilet for show, washing his hands just to stall. One good glance at his reflection makes him cringe, stained shirt and sweats combo leaves him looking like the unprepared mess he is. Another detour through his room to change was a must before he has no choice but to step back out. 

“You’re totally hung over aren’t you?” Aillie jokes from her spot on the couch, comfortable enough in his apartment from the time spent here. She locks her phone as she stands up, taking her time to really look Jungkook over. He was not dressed like someone who was expecting a guest, and despite having seen Jungkook at his sloppiest, his previous attire of oversized shirt and slightly stained sweatpants didn’t look like someone who was expecting a fuck buddy to pop over. Even with his new outfit looking more put together, it was obvious Jungkook was caught off guard by her showing up. 

“What?” Jungkook dumbly asks, trying to come up with some lame excuse to justify his earlier appearance but he falls short. His fingers gently rake through his hair, a grimace falling on his face as he looks back up at her. “Actually, a little. Sorry, I got drunk last night when I text you so sober me was not really prepared.”

“Yeah I figured, you sent me some blurry selfies right after. But we can just hang, we don’t have to do anything,” she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. The only time they ever hung out was to hook up, having ten minute conversations before and after the fact. “Or I can leave too if it's weird that I’m here.” 

Jungkook is shaking his head before she can even finish, already feeling bad enough after texting her to come over. How shitty would he be if he immediately kicked her out. This was fine, a nice distraction from it all, decent middle ground that would help him get his mind off you without having to take Jimin’s douchebag advice. 

“No, we can watch a movie or something. It’s not like I have other plans.” Had this been two weeks ago it would be a totally different story. Jungkook would typically be waiting in his apartment as he stared at the slowly ticking clock, just waiting for it to strike 7:30 because that's when you usually got home. Then he’d either get a text from you to come over with snacks or you’d show up at his door and invite yourself over for the weekly game night. 

It didn’t happen last week, or the week prior, so Jungkook is very confident that it would not be happening today either. It’s that same sense of confidence—and saltiness—that allows him to get comfortable with Aillie, blissfully unaware that you had just pulled into the parking garage a few stories below. 

“I swear to god if you don’t go straight to his door the minute you get off the elevator I will never let you live it down.” Seulgi’s voice fills your car through the speakers, fading out as you shut the car off and bring your phone to your ear to continue the conversation. 

“Dude, I just got off work. I need to make myself look decent.” Plastic bags rustle together as you grab the snacks you had picked up on your way home, all full of yours and Jungkook's favorite treats. It was definitely a guilt fueled purchase, hoping the items were enough to distract him from the fact that you were kind of a bitch for ghosting him recently, or at least butter him up into accepting your apology easier. 

“You think Jungkook cares if you’re a little sweaty from work? He’s a grown man, that’s not gonna stop him from going do—“

“Okay, goodbye!” You hastily cut her off as you press the elevator button, hearing her rambling off about being interrupted. “I’m about to get on the elevator, I’ll tell you how it goes.”

With a small sigh you hang up and stuff the device into your purse, stepping onto the lift as the doors open up and pressing the number for your floor. Your hands are clammy as you grip the plastic bag, uncharacteristically nervous about seeing Jungkook again after so long. 

The main obstacle for you to get over was apologizing for being a crappy friend, and if that went well you were going to suck it up and just come out and confess, the odds of him saying no were slim. And even if he did, you’re perfectly content with staying friends, as long as you could keep him close. 

It’s that same optimistic mentality that allows you to calm down as you enter your place and decide to give yourself a minute to mentally prepare. His favorite ice cream gets put into the freezer for later before you decide to shower and give yourself a pep talk the entire time. 

This pep talk of yours is filled with best case scenarios: Jungkook accepting the confession with open arms, finally being able to kiss him properly, everything falling into place the way it should have a long time ago. And as you head over, totally sober, freshly washed, looking and smelling your best, you really can’t picture this going any other way. 

With a deep breath you’re knocking on his front door, quickly pulling back your hand and wiping it onto your pants as you step back. Jungkook hears the knock clearly from his spot on the couch, his gaze tearing away from the television to stare at his front door with a small frown. He hadn’t ordered any food and Aillie had just excused herself to use his bathroom so his brain is having a hard time wondering who it could be. 

He curses under his breath, not putting it past himself to have texted a second person last night with an invitation to hang out. Why was Jungkook a friendly drunk?

As he presses his eye against the peephole and spots you standing there, he thinks he’s imagining things. It had seemed like so long since he had last seen you in person, and the warped fish-eyed version of you has him stepping back and rubbing his eyes before taking another glance. He suddenly feels like throwing up, and he can’t blame his earlier hangover on it. 

For a brief second he contemplates pretending he hadn’t heard you, but the guilt of doing so makes his heart twist, so he musters up the courage to open the door. It’s barely a crack really, just enough for you to see him while still concealing his apartment, something you definitely found strange because you’re usually flinging the door open and strutting right in, but you suppose his reaction is warranted considering your previous behavior. 

“Y/N, hey. Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine!” Your fingers tangle together in front of you, not entirely sure what to do with your nerves and Jungkook spots it easily. His own nerves sky rocket when he hears the sound of running water coming from his bathroom a few feet away, knowing Aillie would most likely pop out any second now, and he’s not sure why it feels like a dirty secret that he has another girl over. 

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about something kind of important.” Your smile is hopeful, despite the nerves swirling in your eyes. The nervous skip of your heart is felt in your throat, not remembering the last time you had felt this way about telling someone how you felt about them romantically. 

“Right now?” he wonders, fingers gripping the door handle tighter when he hears his bathroom door unlock, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner before stepping into the living room, a few feet away from the door and in perfect view of the wedge Jungkook had opened. 

When your eyes flicker over his shoulder, spotting the auburn haired girl giving you a curious glance, you feel all your confidence slip away. Seulgi had definitely been right about needing to confess soon, Jungkook was a catch and just because you hadn’t realized it sooner didn’t mean the rest of the world was blind to it. 

“Yeah, right now...but you’re busy, so it’s fine!” You want to scramble away from there, feeling dumb the longer you stand there. Jungkook wants to say he’s not busy, kick the girl out of his place and invite you in but that wouldn’t be fair to her, for all he knew your important conversation would be a repeat of the conversation you had over Hajoon, and he really didn't want to get friendship dumped while this girl was in his apartment. He’s pretty sure his Yelp rating would drop a bit if he cried on the couch about you to his old hook up. 

He starts to speak but you cut him off before he can, “Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you later.” You force a smile before walking away, not allowing him to get a word in as you quickly step into your apartment and move to the furthest room away from your bedroom. 

You can feel the cold of your kitchen floor as you sit on your butt, back against your cabinets, the small twinge of defeat spreading within you. “This is fine. Maybe she’s just a friend. I can always tell him tomorrow,” you whisper out. But your fingers seem to think otherwise as they type out a message to Seulgi, informing her that the mission was unsuccessful and you’d be putting on The Notebook like you always did. It was basically protocol to do so when things went south in your life. 

She doesn’t even know how to console you, knowing she can’t tell you it was his loss or that he wasn’t worth it because she knows that’d be a lie and you wouldn’t believe it for a second. The only thing she can offer is coming over, but you’re quick to turn her down, deciding that being alone in the comfort of your bed as you inhaled the ice cream you bought for Jungkook would be best. 

Is being in your room the wisest choice when you know you share a wall with Jungkook—and he has a cute girl over? No. Probably not. But you figure if you hear anything explicit it’s just your dose of karma, so you accept it, turning up the volume of the movie a few levels just to soften the blow. 

However, Jungkook would definitely not be hooking up with her in his bedroom, or anywhere in his apartment for that matter. Luckily Aillie is blessed with the gift of reading the damn room and can easily spot the shift in Jungkook’s mood the second he shuts the door. She’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, hands gently placed on her knees as she gives him a sympathetic smile. 

“I get the vibe that somethings off.”

He looks up at her then, slowing his pace until he’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “My friend—my neighbor just wanted to talk about something. But everything’s fine.”

The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, and Aillie doesn’t believe him in the slightest. A small sigh fills the air as she stands up, collecting her bag and approaching him. “Look, I know deep talks really aren’t our thing so I’m not going to even try to dive into this, but you should go talk to your friend.”

A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder before she makes her way to the door to leave, Jungkook already following closely behind her. “No, you don’t have to go. You came all this way because I texted you with way too much tequila in my system.”

“Jungkook,” she laughs, opening the door with a smile. “You’re way too sweet for your own good. It was nice seeing you though.” Her eyes slowly move over to your front door before looking back at him, head cocking to the side in a very clear indication that he better go over. He can only nod in understanding, waving her goodbye and shutting the door once she heads down to the elevator. 

The action sounds of the movie they were watching continues to fill his apartment, whatever chaos was going on only making his brain whirl so he’s quick to grab the remote and shut it off entirely. Now he’s just stuck in complete silence, wondering if he should quickly make his way over to yours or play it calm and collected. 

The total silence allows him to hear the muffled mumbling of a movie he knew all too well. It draws him in, lures him into his bedroom until he’s kneeling on the mattress with his ear pressed against the wall to properly make it out. You were watching the Notebook, at a concerning volume, which could mean a number of things. Jungkook knew none of them were good, usually rooted in issues you had with your ex, or a tough day at work, or any particular day where you just felt like crying. 

With a deep breath, he’s slowly knocking along his wall, almost experimentally, hoping it's enough to grab your attention through the current scene playing. For a second he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep while watching the film, but then the room falls silent as you pause it entirely. 

Your hearts racing now, ears straining to hear anything else and hoping this wasn’t how the beginning of the explicit noises would start, but then another knock comes from behind you. It makes you gasp, like you’ve just been caught being the nosey neighbor you are, hearing the soft scrape of his hand sliding down the wall. The ice cream gets put onto your nightstand as you sit up properly, forcing yourself out of the mountain of pillows you were practically suffocating in and turning around to knock back.

Jungkook’s palm presses back onto the wall, smiling at your response before fishing his phone out of his pocket. His fingers find your thread of messages, further down the list than he was used to, and as he opens them up and sees the string of unanswered texts dating back to two weeks ago, it stings just like it did before. He pushes his pride aside though, knowing you had wanted to talk today in person, so he proceeds to quadruple text you. 

Jungkook 8:44pm : are you seriously watching the notebook again?

You’re unlocking your phone the second it buzzes, smiling at the dimly lit screen before typing out a response. 

Y/N 8:45pm : shut up, it’s my comfort movie

Y/N 8:45pm : do you wanna watch it with me? for old times sake

The device is locked and placed face down onto your sheets the second you hit send, sinking into the pillows once again as you try not to scream at yourself because you know he’ll hear you. Why would you invite him over when he clearly has company? You had seen her with your own eyes, had seen how cute she is, had seen how cute Jungkook is, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

Jungkook is quick though, texting back in agreement and heading over instantly. If you were watching your comfort movie then Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay. Putting the past two weeks behind him, knowing you’d most likely have a good enough explanation—an explanation he would definitely be needing before the night was over—he’s knocking on your door before you can even check your messages. 

It takes you a minute to untangle your limbs from your covers as you hastily try to get to your door, sock clad feet sliding along your wooden floors when you finally yank the door open. Jungkook wears a soft smile as he stares down at you, taking note that you had switched your outfit to your usual sad movie binge attire of baggy shirt and lounge shorts. His eyes zero in on your lips when he notices there's something lingering at the corner of them. 

“So, are you gonna share whatever the hell that is?” His finger points at it smugly, laughing when your tongue peeks out to wipe it away. 

“It was actually meant to be for you.” Stepping aside, you let him enter your place. Jungkook almost feels a little strange being here after the weird few weeks, but he pushes it aside, just wanting things to feel normal. 

“Does that mean there’s no more left?” His eyes playfully narrow at you as you step closer, moving on to stare at the kitchen table, and the coffee table in search of the tub of ice cream that supposedly had his name on it. The earlier nerves you felt slowly fade away when you realize he’s not visibly upset about what happened, but it only makes your guilt deepen that despite your ability to be a crummy friend, Jungkook would still try his best to come through for you. 

“There’s about half of it left, it’s probably a little soft now though.” You side step him to enter the kitchen, grabbing an extra spoon and handing it over as a peace treaty, smiling when he gratefully accepts it. “C’mon, I paused the movie.”

Jungkook is not a stranger to your bedroom, especially when sappy movies were playing, finding his spot easily on the right side where he typically handed you tissues whenever you cried. The tissues were missing this time, in place of them being the bag of snacks you had bought, his ice cream on the other nightstand. 

“What part are you on?” he asks, settling onto the bed after fluffing up the pillows, waving his hands so you could pass the tub of ice cream his way. 

“It just started raining on the boat.” Jungkook hums, scooping out some of the chocolate ice cream and into his mouth. He knew this scene very well, and when you press play, he mentally repeats all of the lines. Just as Noah declares he wrote her 365 letters, you awkwardly clear your throat, your own spoon slowly sneaking over to his side to steal some ice cream for yourself. 

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with your date.” Your voice sounds timid, something he’s not used to hearing from you at all, so he chuckles, laughing harder when you swat at his arm. “I’m serious, I should have texted you before just showing up.”

“Really? When have you ever done that before?” The two of you never notified the other when they wanted to show up, Jungkook had even given you the code to his place once when he was at work and you were desperate for some fruity pebbles—you used that code to your advantage and Jungkook never hated it. But all things considered, it's fair why you think you would have to give him a heads up. 

“You didn’t make it awkward though.” It’s not the complete truth, you coming over is what had made Aillie decide to leave, but Jungkook had to take most of the credit for it. “I kinda made it awkward from the beginning.”

“Why, what happened?”

“I went out last night with Jimin“ —you immediately hum in understanding, knowing very well how convincing Jimin could be with alcohol— “and apparently I texted her to hang out today, had no recollection, so when she showed up I was definitely not ready.”

“Damn, this is how I know you’re a better person than I am. If that happened to me, the second I checked my peephole and saw someone I didn’t remember inviting over, I’m gonna pretend I’m not home.”

“Yeah well, she lives like an hour away so I’d feel like an ass if I did that. Don’t think I’ll be talking to her again any time soon though.” He sighs in thought, gently tapping his spoon on the surface of the softening ice cream. There was one thing weighing heavy on his mind, needing to know what important thing you had to talk to him about, wondering if you were actually going to friendship dump him earlier and he had just made it worse by coming over and hanging out like old times. 

He doesn’t want to come right out and ask it though, not wanting to set himself up for an awkward conversation in case that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, so he settles for something safe enough that would allow him to get a glimpse. 

“So how are things with Hoseok?” Yeah, that’s a good start. 

“Huh?” Your spoon freezes in its spot, face clearly looking confused in the dim glow of the television, the movie long forgotten now that you were speaking. 

“Tinder guy? Yellow sunglasses guy that gave you mono?” 

It suddenly clicks again, having forgotten all about Jung Hoseok the second you had gotten home from the failed date and came to terms with your feelings. Your lie of having a cold must have been believable enough for Jungkook to genuinely think he had given you something like mono. 

“He didn’t give me mono!” Jungkook rolls his eyes with a playful smile, humming along like he totally believes you. “But I didn’t tell you?”

He frowns as he stares at you, not entirely sure how to take your tone. “Tell me what? That you’re engaged and the wedding is in June?”

“No way,” you laugh, swatting his spoon away with a clank as you grab some ice cream before shoving it in your mouth, fighting against the brain freeze to continue speaking. “Our date was a bust.”

“How? Was it that bad?” He desperately wanted to know, having convinced himself the date had gone spectacularly well and you were now an exclusive item. The small twinge of guilt is felt when he realizes he’s a little too happy that the date had been a failure, but he allows himself to have this small, tiny victory. 

“Mm, it was so good it was bad.” He looks utterly confused, and you don’t blame him, so you elaborate. “He was this perfect gentleman who just wanted to play games, like to the point where he had a notebook where he was tallying our points, and then he walked me to my car and kissed my cheek goodbye.”

“Oh the horror!” Jungkook gasps, setting his spoon down to clutch his heart in dramatics. “How dare he try to romance you with a game night.”

“Jungkook, shut up!” you laugh, finally feeling like everything was right again, sitting in bed with your closest friend as you teased each other. “Look, I’ll give him some credit. The date was nice, he was not the sleazy douchebag his profile made him out to be, and I’m sure he’ll find the perfect girl for him on Tinder. But he clearly wanted something serious and—“

“And you don’t want that right now. It’s fair.” Of course you would turn him down, you had just decided to embark on this new adventure in the single world. It was kind of dumb for Jungkook to assume one date with Tinder Boy would be enough for you to give up your short lived dream. 

You take a steady breath at his words before taking another scoop of ice cream, lips wrapped around the spoon as you slowly pull it out of your mouth. The nerves are trickling back in, making your heart skip and your eyes bounce around. If you don’t come out and say it now, you know you never will. 

Your spoon joins his in the tub of ice cream before you decide to move it back to the nightstand, forcing yourself to look back at him, seeing him turned away as he rummages through the plastic bag full of snacks. “I don’t want that with him.”

Jungkook freezes, the rustling of plastic ceases as his hands come back to his sides and he turns back around. With him. He was the king of jumping to worse case scenarios so his brain has no issues coming to this very horrible conclusion. 

“Have you been talking to Hajoon again?”

“No, Jungkook I haven’t.”

“Are you sure? I’m saying this now, but if you get back with him I will not hesitate to pop him in the face if I run into him in the halls. It’s fair game out there, neutral territory for him to get his ass beat—“

“It’s you.”

His brain short circuits at that, mini versions of himself currently running around and screaming in his head as he tries to make sense of this. The first instinct he has is to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t been talking to Hajoon again, and laugh it off. But you look a little too vulnerable right now, eyes nervously looking at him and then looking away at his lingering silence. 

“Wait, what?” It’s the only thing he can sputter out, caught off guard by your words, not wanting to say anything else in case the world was cruel enough for him to have completely misheard you. 

“I don’t want that with Tinder Boy or Hajoon, I want it with you.” It gets a little easier saying it a second time, but his reaction is hard to gauge. You had been expecting him to reciprocate the confession instantly, but the longer he looked shocked only made you think that you and Seulgi had been seriously wrong about his supposed crush. 

Jungkook is having a difficult time trying to go from you ghosting him to you suddenly admitting to liking him, the change in emotions not allowing him to say anything he had practiced in the mirror for so long. He can’t come out and give you a speech about how he thinks you’re the one, how you’re obviously a good match together, brain too focused on other details. “How long have you known this?”

“For the past two weeks, but deep down I know it’s been longer.”

His wide eyes glance over at you now, everything slowly clicking into place. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Yes,” you mumble, embarrassed over the way you had acted. The last time you had avoided someone was in elementary school, having a best friend go ask your crush if he likes you while you hid in the bathroom, scared of the answer. “I like you Jungkook and I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it cool. I was scared to say something and have you not feel the same and then have our friendship be weird.”

Jungkook smiles in that adorable way you love, nose scrunching up cutely as he leans closer, large palms coming to cup your cheeks. He has wanted to hear this for so long, and sure, maybe it wasn’t some super romantic confession over a candlelit dinner like he had occasionally dreamed of, but this felt right. 

“You’re so stupid,” he whispers out, thumb softly caressing your cheek as he chuckles, feeling the way your lips turn into a frown at his harmless insult. 

“Jungkook, I’m being serious,” you whine, heart still pounding in your chest. Your hands come up to gently wrap around his wrists, allowing him to continue to squish your cheeks with that endearing look on his face. 

“I’m being serious too Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Jungkook did everything he did with you out of pure friendliness, never expecting to get something in return from it, but there was a small sprinkling of a crush in every one of his actions. “I like you too, and I have for a really long time.”

The relief you feel comes instantly, lips slowly pulling into a smile when you finally have the confidence to look directly into his eyes again. If this is how light you feel after the two weeks spent freaking out, you can only imagine how Jungkook feels. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, can I please kiss you?” You’re nodding the second the question leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his hands glide down to cup your jaw, soft lips slowly pressing against yours. It’s a gentle smack of skin as he pulls back, a smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes, softly rubbing his nose against yours. 

“Wait,” he breathes out, chuckling softly. “Is he still looking?” He has the nerve to repeat the same question that had been the root of your guilt, and when your eyes shoot open and glare at him, he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out. 

“I hate you,” you mutter out, not an ounce of truth behind it. 

“Mm, no you don’t.” 

His lips find yours again, falling into a steady rhythm, softer and less rushed than the first kiss you had shared at the club. There’s no pounding bass in the background, or the taste of liquor on your lips, but Jungkook prefers it this way. He likes the low hum of the movie continuing to play in the background, the sweetness of the ice cream lingering on your lips when his tongue gently swipes at the seam of them, the way your hands slowly slide around his neck as he deepens each kiss. 

With each shared breath, you slide further down your bed, pulling Jungkook down with you until he’s hovering directly above you. His knees dig into the sheets, one hand pressed beside your head to keep himself stable as you urge him even closer to you. The delicate golden chain he wears kisses your skin, pendant settling onto your chest, the cool sensation is almost enough to distract you as his tongue slowly slips into your mouth. Jungkook groans when you let out a small gasp, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently at the strands by the nape of his neck. 

He wants to remember this kiss instead of the one from the club, embed every gasp you let out into his brain, the way your chest pushes up to feel more of him, how your hands slide down his back, leaving a fiery trail in their path that makes Jungkook shiver. And when you slide your thighs further apart for him, innocently at first, he can’t help it when his lips freeze on yours as you slowly roll your hips upwards. It gives him the same automatic reaction he had gotten at the club, all the blood rushing to his cock instantly, except this time he doesn’t feel the shame he had felt before. There was no ulterior motive to what you were doing, sincerity shown in your confession, shared within each kiss, so Jungkook allows himself to bask in the want he feels for you.

“Y/N,” he groans out when you repeat the action, pulling away from your swollen lips to stare at you through hooded eyes. You’re licking your lips over as your eyes slowly open, a small glimmer evident in them as you tilt your head and pretend to not know what you’re doing.

“What?” you question, leaning up to kiss the edge of his mouth, giggling when he attempts to chase your lips as you pull back, choosing to kiss down his jaw instead. As your tongue gently trails along the side of his neck, you feel the harsh gulp he takes, his fingers bunching up in the sheets beside your head. His neck has always been a weak point for him, turning him into a puddle in seconds, you knew this from the unfiltered conversations you’ve had and it was something you were definitely going to be using to your advantage. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut as you nip at his skin, a visible shiver racking through him. 

“Of course I am,” you hum, letting your hands roam his back, sliding around his front until you’re sneaking past the white fabric of his shirt. When your cool hands meet his skin, he tenses, the muscles on his stomach tightening up as your fingertips trail up his body. You’ve known Jungkook was well defined, lean and toned in all the best places, having seen him shirtless a few times. But being able to touch him like this, feel each stuttered breath and jump of his skin reacting to your touch fueled you. 

Jungkook knows you can feel the racing of his heart now, your palms flat on his chest, each thrum revealing his emotions despite the cool and calm exterior he was trying to have. His hips lower towards yours, resisting the urge to rut into you as you start to suck on his skin. The low hum you let out vibrates against his neck, mixed in with the feeling of your wet lips, and he knows he’s done for. The final blow comes in the form of you swiping your tongue at the blossomed hickey, sweet voice pulling him back to earth as you look at him once more. “I want you Jungkook.”

Oh god, he couldn’t do this. His face pulls into a grimace, begging himself to not instantly cum in his pants at what you just said. How many times has he fantasized about this? Hoped you’d beg him for anything in that same exact voice, dreamed of you kissing and sucking on his skin like you currently were. Jungkook isn’t sure any amount of mental preparation would be enough for this. 

“Say that again please.”

You giggle, finger pushing back a strand of his hair as it falls over his face, tucking it behind his ear. The normal doe eyed look you were accustomed to is nowhere to be found, pupils blown out in lust as he stares at you. Being on the receiving end of this stare fills your stomach with butterflies, the flapping of their wings intensifying as he nudges his nose into yours. 

“I want you.” It’s breathless, spoken so softly through the background noise like a personal secret just for him. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say it, that much is proven true when you repeat it in between kisses, trailing back up his neck in the same path you had taken until you're speaking the words directly against his lips. He swallows them down greedily, groaning into your mouth when his tongue tangles with yours once more. 

“Fuck, you can have me baby.” He chuckles against your mouth when you start to tug at his shirt, yanking the thin material until he has to pull back and slip the tee off himself. The balled fabric gets tossed aside without a care, dark swirls of ink on his arm fully revealed now, each tattoo reminding you of how long you’ve known him, remembering the two pieces that he had when you first met. When he leans back over you, taking his time trailing kisses down your neck, onto your chest until his own hands are slowly tugging your shirt off of you, you decide there’s other things to focus on besides his glorious tattoos.

“Ah, Jungkook,” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair when he kisses the swells of your breast, warm tongue sliding over your nipple before his lips are wrapping around it. His large palm gropes the other, thumb flicking over the pebbled bud, smirking when you push your chest further out for him.

“What baby?” He pulls back to blow a gust of cool air on your nipple, the wetness of his saliva making your skin break out into goosebumps. 

“No teasing.”

Jungkook’s laughing now, eyes peering up at you through his lashes. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna tease you after what you did?” He tsks in disapproval as he continues to kiss down your torso, letting his hands trail down your sides, not stopping until he reaches the hem of your shorts. A kiss is placed above your navel as he pulls the shorts down your legs, toying with the waistband of your black underwear. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

The build up before pleasure will always be your favorite part. The way his hands grip your thighs after tugging your underwear off, fingertips trailing up until his palm is pressing them further apart. It’s impossible to look at him now, the visual of his long hair framing his face as he starts to press wet kisses on your skin is too much to handle. You can feel the warm huff of air when he laughs as your head drops back onto the pillow once more, eyes slipping shut while you wait with anticipation. 

Jungkook wants to comment over how wet you are already, boost his own ego about being able to rile you up with just kissing, but he can see the way you’re already on edge, and he decides he can tease you some more later with what he has in store. Instead, he gives you what you’re mentally pleading him for. Finally pressing his soft lips to your folds, the short gasp you release as his tongue glides up before gently flicking across your clit has him shutting his own eyes, reveling in the way you react to his touch. 

His long fingers spread out your folds before he’s messily spitting onto them, watching the way the glob of saliva trickles down before he’s diving in, falling into the perfect pace with ease. It has your hips rutting up instantly, your hand uncurling its grip from your sheets to travel down your body and find its place tangled in his hair. Jungkook groans against your clit when your fingers grip tightly, yanking the dark strands as the prettiest moan flows out of you. 

“J-just like that, fuck,” you whimper, finally lifting your head up to stare down at him when he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. It sends a spark down your spine, stomach tensing at his rhythm, fully intent to have you fall apart. 

Jungkook wants to push you over the edge, knows he’s talented enough to get you there in record time—he was cocky in the best way—and the way your thighs tremble as he slowly sinks his finger into you proves his point. The slick coating your entrance allows a second finger to slip through with little resistance, a shuddering breath filling the air as he begins to spread his fingers apart, stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

It’s not until his fingers curl up, rubbing along the sweet patch inside of you and you moan out his name, that he realizes he has you right where he wants you. He can’t get himself to look up at you, to see the way your jaw drops as you plead for more. Jungkook knows if his eyes lock with yours too soon he’ll be too weak to be as cruel as he wants to be. 

The pleasure blooms inside you, hips rolling up into his in a way he welcomes, smirk spreading onto his lips when your moans get breathier. He eats you out with determination set in his brows, not satisfied until you’re tightening around his fingers, thighs threatening to close in on either side of his head. The messy way he slurps against you sends you reeling, rutting up into him with need, the wet thump of his fingers blending in with your moans of his name. 

“God, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” He believes you, eyes finally opening up to stare at you. The visual is enough to make his cock throb in his pants, your glassy eyed stare locked onto his, chest rising and falling in time with each choked breath. When he playfully winks at you, your walls pulse around him, seconds away from being pushed over the edge, and that’s when he pulls away. 

The warm glow of your orgasm approaching, just about to crest, gets ripped away from you instantly. It makes you gasp, thighs twitching as your hips attempt to push up back towards his mouth, but he’s having none of that. His shiny lips smile up at you innocently, head tilted to slowly kiss your trembling thighs, chuckling at the small cry of frustration you let out. 

“You taste good baby,” he hums, smooching the skin at the juncture of your thighs, circling around your clit without relieving the pressure you felt. The dull ache has your fingers releasing his hair in defeat, a frown etched onto your lips. 

“Jungkook, that’s mean,” you pant, sitting up and resting on your elbows to properly stare at him. 

“A little, but you deserved it don’t you think?” Jungkook didn’t want to tease you too much, he just wanted to get even for the past two weeks. “You could have had me between your thighs every single night if you would’ve said something soon, so I think you can be patient.”

A firm kiss is pressed to your swollen clit and it makes your whole body shudder, your head dropping back as you take a deep breath to control yourself. “I can’t be patient Kook,” you whine, head leveling back out to give him the most convincing stare you can muster. There's that crease between your brows that he likes when you pinch them together, hands gently raking through his hair, teeth pillowing out your lower lip as you bite down onto it. 

“Please, you can torture me later if you want but not now.” Your words have him cocking up his brow, hands once again gripping the meat of your thighs before he crawls back up your body. The feeling of his chain dragging up your skin has you shivering, breath catching in your throat when he hovers inches above you once more. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before his hand slips between your thighs again. A groan reaches his ears as his fingers circle your clit, covered in your arousal and his saliva, gliding with ease as he works you back to your ruined orgasm. 

His lips find yours, swallowing down the moan you let out when he quickens his pace. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangling with yours with more urgency than before, messy and desperate in a way that had more arousal gushing out of you. The earlier pleasure reignites inside you, your hands sliding around his neck to keep him close, kissing him with fervor, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past between each smack of your lips. 

“Jungkook,” you barely manage to squeal, a few more flicks needed to finally push you over the edge. Your lips are slick with spit as you pull back, jaw slack as you lose yourself in the feeling, and Jungkook easily bookmarks this into his brain to go back to and daydream of whenever he’s bored at work. Your eyes are squeezed shut as the feeling flows through you, not able to see how Jungkook stares at you in awe. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly pulling his hand away when you keen at the sensitivity, thighs twitching on the sheets as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. You’re looking up just in time to see him slip his messy fingers into his mouth, tongue licking them clean and savoring the taste of you. Just as he slides them back out, your fingers wrap around his wrist and lead them directly into your mouth, sinking onto them with your eyes locked on his own. 

Jungkook’s cock jumps in its confines when you suck, tip of your tongue circling his fingertips before popping them back out with a smirk. There’s a brief moment of shock on his features before he’s jumping into action, quickly unbuttoning his jeans in haste that left you giggling on your sheets. 

“What happened to patience?” you tease, laughing harder when he pauses with one foot stuck in the hole of his jeans, a playful glare thrown your way. 

“Oh, now you want patience?” He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, slowly shuffling towards you as he stands beside the bed in just his boxers. Your hands make grabby motions for him, reaching for the waistband of his underwear to tug them down, licking your lips over as his cock springs out. It bobs in the air for a second, thick and heavy, precum collecting at the tip with the prettiest veins on the underside of it. Of course Jungkook and his pretty privilege would have a dick worthy of leaving you speechless. 

Jungkook allows you to ogle at him, confidently wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, hissing slightly at the sensation as he looks down at it, allowing spit to accumulate behind his lips before a string of it escapes and lands right onto his length to help the glide of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight, hand replacing his as he guides your motions, giving an experimental squeeze and enjoying how his abs tense up. 

“I’ve been patient for a long time Y/N. You said you want me right?” You’re nodding instantly, eyes looking away from his shiny length to stare up at him. “How do you want me?”

“Jungkook, just get over here.” He doesn’t resist when you let go of his cock, hands gripping his arm to yank him back onto the bed in a clumsy heap. His legs are a tangled mess, nearly ramming his forehead with yours from the force, shared laughter filling the air as you situate yourself. Jungkook had pictured this a thousand times and this is exactly how he imagined it, full of soft kisses, hushed laughter and goofy smiles, playfulness mixed in with lust all coming together perfectly to make the two of you. 

As he settles between your thighs, your sodden folds inches from his length, you can see the look on his face as his eyes glance in between both of your nightstands. Already knowing the question that was about to spill out, you beat him to the punch. “You don’t need one, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and haven’t been with anyone since…” you trail off, not needing to specify.

Jungkook tries not to look too excited, really, but it’s hard. Every one of his lewd fantasies had involved being able to feel you entirely, and if your thoughts from that night were anything to go by, you definitely want the same. It takes him a second to speak, having to swallow properly to prevent himself from choking on his saliva and embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you smile, biting down onto your bottom lip as he fists his cock, slowly leading it to your dripping center. His free hand rests on your inner thigh, softly palming the skin as the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscles and into your heat. With his gaze locked down to where you connect, he sees inch by inch sink into you, finally bottoming out with a shared gasp.

Jungkook leans over you properly now, hand sliding up to lace with yours as the other rests beside your head, just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You welcome the stretch, the curve of his length inside you, how he cages you in with his body, eyes full of want staring directly at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze because he knows he can’t properly form a sentence right now. 

“Fuck me, please.” With his hips pressed flush against yours, he’s slowly inching back, letting you get used to his size with each thrust. It doesn’t take long before he’s rearing back entirely, thrusting forward with a wet squelch, corner of his lips curling up into a smirk when you moan out his name. Your hand curls around his shoulder, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself steady from the force of his hips. 

Each time the head of his cock would nudge against your bundle of nerves, your nails would sink into his skin, leaving half moon indents that left him groaning in pleasure. Jungkook hadn’t outright told you, but it had become increasingly obvious that he has a slight kink for pain, practically mewling above you as you scratch his back, fucking you with more determination than before. 

“You feel so good,” he rasps, slotting his lips with yours in a messy kiss. The back of your headboard starts to rattle against the wall, bouncing back in time with his hips, and it brings you back to the filthy thoughts you had before. How often you’d hear the same sounds on the opposite side, mixing in with the sharpness of skin connecting together, and you want it. So badly.

“J-jungkook,” you breathe out, letting him pepper more kisses onto you, hips never slowing down. “Can you do something for me?” The tone you use, coated in sugar so sweet he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Anything.”

It’s hard to concentrate on anything else while his cock continues to fuck into you, turning your mind into mush each time he sunk all the way in. He can see the way you try to focus, eyes falling shut with the cutest pout on your kiss swollen lips, finally grabbing onto the reigns of your mind as you spit it out. “Wanna feel you—fuck—spank me, please.”

Only then do his hips slow down, cock throbbing inside of you, fighting the urge to cum before fulfilling your request. The only confirmation that he was agreeing, wholeheartedly, comes when he pulls out of you, moving too quickly for you to protest at the loss of contact. The room spins for a second as his hands grip onto your hips and flip you over with ease, palms gripping the globes of your ass and softly patting them with a chuckle.

“Of course baby,” he murmurs, hooking his arm underneath your stomach to haul you up onto your knees, allowing you to steady yourself before he’s sliding into you once again. The change in position has you keening, his cock sinking deeper than before, the wetness dripping out of you helping him maintain the earlier pace he had. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, back arching in ecstasy as he hits your g-spot with precision, a tiny shriek of his name making him smile.

Jungkook keeps you on edge, strong hands gripping the skin of your hips tightly, mouth dropping open while he pants at the way you pulse around his cock, leaving it coated in your slick. His hand slides down to your ass, a gentle touch being your only warning before he’s pulling his hand back and delivering a swift slap to your skin. Your reaction is immediate, an unrestrained moan sounding like music to his ears. The sharp sting spreads directly to your core, your head bowing forward as you mentally beg him for more, your wish being granted seconds later when he repeats it on the other side.

If the wet sounds of his cock fucking you weren’t filthy enough, the added slap of his palm across your ass definitely topped it off. Jungkook had never seen you so needy, thighs coated in your arousal, gushing around him each time he spanked you until you were creaming his cock. The greedy way your walls suck him in, wanting him closer, deeper than ever, left him mesmerized. 

His hand soothes the dull throb on your skin, a trembling breath reaching his ears as he leans over your back, lips kissing up your spine up until reaching your shoulder. Hot pants of breath hit your skin, making you shiver as his lips trail along the edge of your ear. “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you mewl, voice trembling from the pleasure, rutting your hips in time with his. 

Jungkook’s way of love was a breath of fresh air for you, rough enough to exhilarate you, the force of his hips leaving you scrambling for purchase to prevent you from face planting onto the sheets, gripping onto your hair and tugging it back with enough force to make your body tingle. But it was intertwined with adoration, sweet praise whispered into your ear, lacing his fingers with yours to let you feel secure.

“You’re never getting rid of me baby,” he groans out. The low rasp in his voice makes you tremble, neck straining from his grip in your hair but the burn feels too good to pull away. His small confession has your heart skipping, eyes slipping shut to bask in the overwhelming feeling surrounding you.

“Good,” you manage to pant, “would never dream of it.” After four years of friendship, the beginning stages of getting to know each other, figuring out the right ways to flow with your different personalities, it's all out of the way now, so it’s incredibly easy for you to picture a steady future with him. The breakfast gossiping, shameless club outings, chaotic game nights with snacks thrown at each other, you want everything you already have with him and more. What you have, so rooted in sincerity, built off mutual respect for each other, blossoming into love so pure, you can’t imagine having this with anyone else.

“Y/N,” he gasps, the pulsing of your walls bringing him closer to his climax. “I’m close.”

You can only hum in agreement, burying your face into your pillow when he releases the grip he has in your hair, nipples rubbing against the sheets in time with his thrusts, the sensitivity sending sparks throughout you. Both his hands grip your hips again, dimpling the skin as he quickens his pace, the tantalizing roll of his hips intent to send you over before him. His eyes trail over the curve of your back, how you arch it further to feel more of him, sliding down to your ass, seeing the way it bounces back with each snap of his hips, how you weakly rut back onto him, pussy clamping around his length as your orgasm approached. 

Jungkook slides his hand around you, trailing across your tummy before slipping between your thighs to the spot you needed him most. Even with your face buried in the sheets, the moan you let out is loud enough for Jungkook to hear perfectly, body shuddering as he flicks across your clit in tight circles.  

“Kook, I’m cumming—fuck,” you shout out, white heat enveloping your body as you get sent over the edge. Your mind blanks for a minute, the intensity of your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly, making your limbs tense up while every nerve ending lights up. The only thing you can think of is him, chanting out your name while you pulse around him, sweet words coaxing you through your high, thumb rubbing along the skin of your hips as he never slows his pace. 

As he fucks you through it, groaning out at how tight your walls are around him, you have to turn your head to gasp in a breath, face feeling hot from it all. You can feel how sweaty your skin has become, the back of your neck feeling sticky as your turn to get a glimpse of him, body still shuddering from the aftershocks. 

Jungkook doesn’t have a care for his own volume now, moaning unabashedly as he pistons his hips into you with less grace than before. The soft mewls of overstimulation you let out just bring him closer to his release, thrusts getting sloppier as the pleasure takes over him. 

“Fuck, baby-” he grunts out, mouth dropping open as he moans even louder, finally falling apart. He pushes further into you, head falling forward as his hips press flushed against your ass, warm spurts of his cum filling you up in a way that fulfills your dirtiest fantasies. A few more shallow thrusts has the two of you gasping, hearts pounding in your chests, coming down slowly as he finally stills.

A serene silence falls over you, the movie long turned off in the background, only the low glow of the television letting you know it was still on. With great hesitation, Jungkook finally pulls out of you, gulping when he sees the thick globs of cum spill from your core, dripping down your thighs before landing on the sheets in a sinful mess. Your sheets are well and truly ruined, Jungkook would honestly suggest tossing them in the trash judging by the damp spot directly beneath you.

With a small groan, you’re flopping fully onto your stomach, thighs no longer able to keep yourself up, the exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungkook chuckles when he hears you, soothing your back with a gentle massage. “You’re not sleeping in here babe.”

“Why not,” you slur, cheek pressed against your pillow, eyes already shut. All you wanted to do was lay here, preferably with his arms wrapped around you, but Jungkook clearly has other plans. 

“Because it’s disgusting,” he laughs, giving you a few more seconds of rest before he’s moving around. The dip in the bed lets you know he’s gotten off, one eye peeking open to search for him, seeing him gathering his belongings from the floor.

“Where are you going?”

He shimmies back into his clothes with a grimace, gathering your own items before approaching you once more. “We are going next door and sleeping in my totally clean bed, c’mon.”

You only put up a fight for a second, secretly enjoying the way he helps you get dressed in your earlier clothes, heart swelling in your chest at how domestic it all feels. The mess in your room would have to be dealt with another day, the only important item being the ice cream that finds its way back into the freezer as you both head out of your apartment and swiftly enter his next door.

He’s just as delicate and careful in the shower, taking turns cleaning each other, large hands gripping your ass and giggling like a child when you wince at the small throb of pain you feel. Soft kisses are shared under the showerhead, warm water soothing your body as the room fogs up, sweet confessions scribbled on the glass in his messy writing, topped off with a heart. Jungkook stops you before you can wipe it away, shyly telling you that he’d like to see it reappear the next time he showers.

His bedroom was one you weren’t too familiar with, used to lounging in his living room the most, so as he settles into his bed after getting cozy in his pajamas, you wait for him to call you over before joining him. The coolness of his sheets has you sighing, snuggling into his side with a smile on your lips, one that Jungkook sees as he stares down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Seeing you draped in his clothes, cuddled up beside him in a way you’ve never done before, makes him feel like a giddy teenager. 

“Can I be honest?” he wonders, arm wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. When you hum in confirmation, he laughs sheepishly. “I thought you were going to friendship dump me today.”

“What, why?”

Your head bobs up as he shrugs his shoulders. “The way you were acting reminded me of the last time you told me you wanted to focus on your relationship. I was just scared I was going to lose you again.”

The tone he uses makes your heart ache, the same guilt you felt these past few days coming back when you put yourself in his shoes. You had no idea that the way you were acting would affect him this way, never once imagining that he thought you would cut off this friendship while you were just coming to terms with the fact that you harbored strong feelings for him. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you sigh, palm resting on his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, no longer racing like before, confident and steady in it’s pace because he knows you’re not going anywhere. “I’m stupid, and freaked out after what I did, and just needed to gather my thoughts before saying anything.”

He cranes his head away from you, a confused look on his face. “After what you did? What did you do?”

Fuck.

“Uhm,” you start with a strained laugh, refusing to look up at him out of embarrassment, but the truth has to come out so you power through it.  “So, the night of the date, I sort of got home earlier than I told you I did.”

His eyes narrow at you, refusing to give anything away before he knew where this was going. “Okay, go on.”

“And I sort of heard you through the walls.” You look up at him now, your guilty stare spelling it out for him. His eyes widen before he can conceal his surprise, cheeks warming up instantly because oh boy, he knew exactly where this was going. “And then, I sort of...joined.”

“You lied to me!” he shouts, shocked smile on his face as he recalls the way you had replied to his texts, telling him you had just gotten home and going the extra mile to say you were in a totally different room when in reality, you were sprawled out in your bed after just getting off to the sound of him.

Filthy. And also kind of hot. Jungkook was definitely into that, something he’ll totally proposition you into doing again because why not.  

“I know! I couldn’t help it, it was so hot, and I felt so guilty. But, you’re technically the reason why my orgasm gave me my epiphany and let me realize I really do like you. So, I think I did us both a favor by being a dirty liar.” He’s laughing instantly, fingers gripping your cheeks to turn your head up, planting a firm kiss onto your lips obnoxiously.

“Alright, you’re forgiven. Plus, consider us even because I have definitely heard you getting off on your own plenty of times too.” A squeal of surprise fills the air as you swat at his chest, burying your face into his shirt and feeling the rumble of his laughter. It really wasn’t ever intentional. The walls are thin, you weren’t exactly quiet, and he couldn’t just lay there and ignore it. So call him an opportunist, or a pervert, because you were one too. 

Jungkook is cheeky though, knowing how to get under your skin in the best way, and you can already tell you’re in for a ride when he gets close to your ear and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snort, peering up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“You did say I could torture you later.” He smiles innocently, fingers pinching your chin as he kisses you again. “It’s later.”

The sweet laughter that escapes you makes his heart skip a beat, still not able to come to terms that this was happening and wasn’t some dream of his that he’d wake up from. He kisses the tops of your cheeks first, then your nose, before reaching your lips, his hand gently caressing your skin. Jungkook had no intention of torturing you tonight, knowing how tired you typically were after work on a normal day, and after drawing two orgasms out of you that left you shaking, he knows how close you are to sleep with the way your eyes droop. 

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on crushes and love?” he mumbles against your lips, inching back to stare down at you. 

“I’m glad I stopped looking for it in the wrong places.” Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with his hair before pulling him back to you, reattaching your lips because you just couldn’t seem to get enough of him. 

Every single moment you shared, from moving in and awkwardly trying to get to know each other, the ups and downs of failed relationships, the push that started it all at the club, and every almost moment in between brought you full circle to right now. There probably won’t be a moment where you don’t wish you had done this sooner, worked past your worry of ruining a good friendship in fear of what could happen, but the past helped mold you into who you are, strengthening your relationship to be the way it is now.

Right now had you thinking of the future, and there was nothing more exciting than that.

#jungkook smut #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #bangtansorciere #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner #jeongguk smut #jeon jungkook #bts smut #jungkook fluff #new

[ruzek-halstead]

Green-Eyed Epiphany and fake dating with juke!!

not going to lie, i totally had to google green-eyed epiphany bc what i thought it was is definitely not what it is lmao. 

also, i wish i had more time to write this. there would be so many thing i’d change!! but for now....

“luke! what are you doing? put your arm around me or something!”

luke rolled his eyes, slowly throwing an arm around her shoulders, while she literally vibrated under his touch. he didn’t want to be here, not in the slightest, but when julie molina asks him for something, he can’t simply say no. they were at their fourth college party of the month and luke couldn’t even believe he was saying this, but he was exhausted of parties. 

a few months ago, the only one of his friends with a braincell (aka his very best friend) showed up at his door with tear stains all over her cheeks. he didn’t ask any immediate questions; just pulled her in and took her straight to his room. she curled up in his blankets while he went to get some water. he wasn’t trying to overwhelm her, so he sat at the corner of his bed, giving her all the space he could. he listened to her cry and his chest was constricting so tightly, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. eventually she pulled herself up and rested her head on his lap; he caressed her hair and she steadied her breathing.

eventually she told him that her boyfriend, mason broke up with her (luke was never a fan, but he could tell that julie was really hurt by it, so he shoved his thoughts aside). he sat with her the entire night and they talked about anything and everything. it took her some time, but she slowly became okay with being single again. that was, until she spotted her ex-boyfriend mid-performance at this local club they were playing. to everyone else, it just seemed like she forgot the words to the song, but luke knew her. he couldn’t even stop her when she skipped the dressing room and went straight to him. after that night, mason reached out and julie was immediately sucked right back in, no matter how many times luke tried to warn her. 

but she went about it differently this time. while she wanted mason back, she also wanted to make him work for it. so at the top of her list of worst ideas she’d ever come up with, she requested luke’s help to make him jealous. 

“how the hell am i supposed to do that?” 

“we can pretend to date a bit!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up with the genius idea. “that’s perfect. he’ll see us at all the parties, it’ll be great.”

luke ran a hand over his face. “julie, that’s a horrible idea. no.”

“what?” julie turned to him with a pout. “what do you mean no? you have to help me, you owe me!”

luke rolled his eyes. “he’ll never buy it.”

“are you saying you can’t pretend to look like you’re in love with me?”

that instantly shut luke up. 

“julie,” he breathed, trying to reason. “please don’t ask me to do this.”

“luke,” julie matched his tone, even going as far to lean into his lap and rest her arms on his shoulder. “please. do this for me. please.”

any willpower that luke had, it disappeared the moment julie looked at him with those eyes.

currently, they were at another party and julie was desperately trying to flaunt their ‘relationship’ to where mason was. he was engaged in a game of beer pong, and he wasn’t even paying attention to julie (like he never did) and luke’s blood was starting to boil at how much effort julie was putting into this. 

“luke,” julie hissed, grabbing his chin with her fingers so he could actually look at her, since he hardly had all night. “what the hell? you look like you can’t stand me, much less that you’re in love with me.”

he swallowed hard, eyes scanning her face. she looked beautiful tonight, like she always did, and luke couldn’t pretend this wasn’t starting to take a toll on him. he knew in his very soul that he was unbelievably and irrevocably in love with julie molina and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. 

“alright, nope,” he quipped, removing his arm and standing up from the couch. “i’m done. this is done. i’m not doing this anymore.”

julie’s jaw dropped and he left her seething in shock. he couldn’t bear to see her hurt expression, so he grabbed his jacket and snuck outside. it was cold, there was no one else around; it was perfect, he needed the silence to clear his mind.

but then he heard the door slamming open and he knew exactly who had followed him. 

“luke! what the hell is your problem?”

he took a deep breath before he turned around to face her. her shoulders were hunched and she was rubbing her arms; it was cold and she was in a dress. even her obvious seething anger couldn’t warm her. 

“i don’t have a problem, julie,” he replied, voice even and calm. “i’m just not about to keep lying to everyone for no reason.”

“you have a reason!” she shot back hotly. “your reason is to help me, your best friend.”

luke shook his head; he was starting to lose his cool and he feared if he did, he would say things he would probably regret. “julie, think about this. is this really what you want?”

“i’m trying to make him jealous, and it’s working!” julie exclaimed, hands thrown into the air in desperation. “why don’t you want to help me?”

luke clenched his jaw. “i don’t want to help you because you’re trying to get back with an ex who never even treated you right in the first place! he doesn’t deserve you!”

“what?”

luke stepped closer. “julie, you deserve so much better. i’m sorry if i’m overstepping but i can’t help you with this anymore.”

at this point, julie’s anger had faded, she was just confused. she didn’t understand why luke was acting out this much. sure, he knew he was protective, but he would always do anything for the people who needed him, especially her. 

“luke, i don’t understand.”

“you don’t have to.”

that set her off again. 

“no, luke, i need more than that. you can't shut me out like this. i thought i was your best friend.”

that set him off again. 

“julie, i don’t want to be just your friend anymore!” he exclaimed, eyes glued to her expression. “god, i’ve liked you for ages and i just didn’t know what to do about it. this doesn’t even have to mean anything. i just don’t want you getting hurt again and i’m sorry, but if you want to get mason back, you’ll have to do it on your own.”

julie’s heart was beating out of her chest. 

“luke.”

“but i’m telling you right now, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“luke.”

“i’m going home now. i’m sorry but i -”

“luke, shut up!” julie shouted, surprising him with the sudden change in demeanour. through his rambling, he hadn’t noticed all the steps she’d taken in his direction. “just shut up,” she whispered. he was acutely aware of her gaze dropping to his lips. 

he couldn’t act on it though. if she wanted him, she would have to make the move.

her cold hands slid behind his neck, pulling him down to where she needed him. his eyes were frozen, stuck on all her facial movements, before she came in close and pressed her lips against his. her lips were cold, she was clearly freezing, so luke wasted no time in pulling her close by her waist. 

“you’re freezing,” he mumbled against her temple.

“you like me.”

luke pulled back slightly. “yeah, i do. what’re you going to do about it?”

she responded by pulling him down for another kiss. 

(and YES, he does give her his jacket after)

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #thirsty thursday #jatp fanworks appreciation week #netflixwewantjatp2 #netflixwewantjatps2

[seoafin]

i love how chaotic kid!megumi is,,, because to someone who doesn't even know him they would assume that this kid is the calmest person ever but he really isn't. i just know he bit gojos ear before. and that's why he's chaotic. no one expects it but this boy will yank the hairs from ur nostrils w no hesitation.

and lowkey i feel like rip!mc could be chaotic in a calm way (if that makes sense LMAO) like one second she listening to someone speak then she sees something interesting and just walks towards it PDKDKD lowkey feel like satoru would take his eyes off of her for one second and she's gone 😭 he then finds her near shoko 😭 or i also feel like she would also just stop someone when they're talking because she remembered something that she read about curses and suddenly asks someone to get her a pen and paper immediately so she can write it down 😭 basically rip!mc being a scatter brain (the scientist genes are popping up 😩)

this......this is a concept™

i could go on and on about gojo and chaotic kid megumi. i bet once they were out together and gojo was being annoying so megumi started yelling for help and that there was a strange man trying to kidnap him!!

gojo had to sort it out with the police and it took hours LMAO

i bet megumi also plays super dirty. did you see him slap away tsumiki’s hand??? i hope gojo doesn’t pick him up because that’s a slap to the face right there, and he’ll do it with 😐 this face too. megumi totally bit gojo’s hand once too.

chaotic calm is exactly the vibes im trying to capture for rip!mc!!! gojo is always trying to keep an eye on her in public bc sometimes she gets so caught up in her head she just wanders. if she’s at the school and starts wandering her legs will subconsciously take her to shoko so it’s easy to keep track of her, but when they’re out in public it’s free game. gojo “jokes” about buying a leash for her..... she doesn’t talk to him for a week.

rip!mc getting up mid meeting with the higher ups and leaving because she had a sudden epiphany in her research (she can be just as disrespectful to the elders as gojo just unaware bc once she gets in the zone she doesn’t really care abt anything else LOL) once she missed a dinner with gojo because she forgot about it and he complained for three months straight. sometimes gojo finds her conversing with complete strangers about nonsensical topics and he’d be bewildered if he weren’t used to it atp 😭

gojo keeps pens and paper on hand (I bet his uniform has deep ass pockets) and wordlessly passes them to her whenever he sees that™ look on her face

i have a wip in kid megumi’s POV and it’s basically megumi figuring out that although rip!mc doesn’t act like it she might be even more messed up in the head than gojo 😁

#rip!mc would straight up ask choso if he has a reproductive system #literally for science #that's when gojo picks her up and carries her out the room #scatter brained rip!mc....this is so galaxy brained of you i love it #rip!mc isn't as blunt as she was as a teenager and unlike gojo she could actually read the room (when it doesn't come to romance) #but smts she'll say smt and the ppl around her will go ?????? #ripverse answered

[chunhua-s]

congrats on your milestone event!!! id like to request for kita soulmate!au with angst to fluff genre 👉👈 yknow sumn rejection shit bcs im hopeless like that wehee once again congrats! and i love your writing style :3

anon you’re gonna make me cry 🥺 seriously i’m happy you enjoy my writing and that you think my style’s okay! most of the time i go off of what kind of feelings i get when i’m writing or the imagery that comes up in my head and i’m never sure that it translates well enough for you guys to feel or see the same thing. hopefully as i keep writing then i’ll be able to show you guys what’s on my mind better when i’m writing! thank you again for requesting — seriously, it means a lot! and like always, you guys, don’t be afraid to come and talk to me on and off anon! your interactions mean a lot, especially for content creators! we love hearing what you all think, what you like/dislike about our work, what you think of certain characters — absolutely anything! come and talk with us more whenever you can 💕

writing for kita feels calming somehow. normally the things that come up in my chest or my mind when i write gets nearly overwhelming if that makes sense? like i’ll have to pause and remind myself to breathe because it takes up so much of my attention that i kinda get lost, but with kita, it feels more flowey to me. it’s not demanding but more like a gentle coaxing kind of thing or like looking at the surface of a calm river. i was initially scared to write for him because i was worried i wouldn’t get him right, but i feel satisfied with how this turned out, i think. i hope you guys will find it as calming as i found it too! it might not be exactly what you wanted, but because i had already written the rejection of a person for atsumu’s soulmate oneshot, i wanted to play around with kita’s character and make it instead the rejection of a concept/idea? which would indirectly lead to him... you know, rejecting his soulmate initially, but— ahhhhhh it might make sense to just read it!! these rambles keep getting longer and longer :v i’m sorry for that!! please go ahead and read and tell me what you think in the end! 💕

NOTNING MORE THAN HUMAN ➽ KITA SHINSUKE x READER

genre: angst to fluff

au: soulmate

warnings: none

shinsuke kita is human.

and of course, that much is obvious. he isn’t a machine that’s incapable of feelings and emotions, whose heart is unfamiliar with melodies of an overwhelming joy, or the quiet hymns of deep rooted sadness. his skin still burns under righteous fury and anger, his tongue still weighs heavy under hesitance and silent worries. at the end of every long day, he’s still human.

it’s because he’s human that the words on his collarbone feel so heavy, as if they might cave into the bone and destroy him under their weight. it’s because he’s human that the sight of black markings in the mirror clouds his mind with a new kind of fear and worry. shinsuke kita is human, but he’s long since taught himself how to abandon anxiety and nervousness. he surrounds himself in familiar routines that calm the turbulent voices of doubt, he builds habits that ground him to the earth lest he should be swept away by the current. shinsuke has taught himself not to be afraid for the things that will happen everyday, but meeting his soulmate isn’t one of those things he can prepare for.

it’s a strange concept, he considers to himself. shinsuke doesn’t believe in words like fate or destiny, doesn’t care for the higher powers that should judge his actions. as far as he’s concerned, his own will is what dictates where his life goes — he’s in control, and that’s how it’s always been for him. let the gods watch, if they must, but he’s already decided that he’ll live by what is right, and he wouldn’t dare falter in the face of it. and yet — and it’s such a strange thing for him to do so — he pauses under the notion of a soulmate, of a destined partner who’s supposedly bound to him for as long as he should live. at first, he hadn’t given the idea much thought; it wouldn’t serve any purpose to worry about something that would happen whether or not he wants it, he decided. the truth of it is inevitable, just as the leaves must fall in autumn and the earth should be buried under clouds of white in winter. shinsuke is human — what more can he do but to accept it?

the black words that spread across his skin like droplets of ink became the bitter seeds of doubt that he hadn’t felt in a long time. it’s raining a lot today, isn’t it? the sentence by itself is so bland, like something maybe aran or anyone else might say to him in passing, and at first, it didn’t shake him too much, until he was caught one day under a sudden summer storm. seventeen year old kita somehow found himself stranded beneath a small shelter, where the wooden covering could protect him more than his umbrella until the rain passed. it was nearly unconscious, but he somehow found himself on edge, his breath faltered with the harsh pitter patter of rainfall that tumbled from green leaves and tore ripples from the surface of the lake. shinsuke kita found himself with a stomach full of butterflies and a thundering heartbeat that stole him away from solace and calm, cast the peace that he would so often carry with him away and left him stranded among chopping waves. every trembling breath he took stung on cold air and left him with a burning feeling on his lungs. it’s unfamiliar in its presence and shakes him to his core, but shinsuke kita is reminded of his own humanity when he realizes that what he feels, is anticipation and nervousness.

and it’s an odd thing. as he becomes aware of it, he finds himself twisting his fingers together during spring time; he worries his bottom lip between his teeth during unexpected showers. he feels like a child who stands in line to ride a roller coaster for the first time in his life — wide-eyed and drowning in the millions of feelings that race throughout his body. the feeling itself is nothing new, though it’s unfamiliar and intense in its ferocity and demand, seizes his heart and squeezes so tightly that whenever it rains, he’s left breathless.

it’s almost enough to drive him mad.

his very foundation seems to fall apart with the thunder that rolls across grey skies. for every drop of rain that hits the pavement, he finds himself a jittery mess as his heartbeat tears through his chest. the man who taught himself to abandon his fears reverts into the young boy who watched out for god, for the higher beings who watched his every move. and the thought that comes with every brilliant bolt of lightning burns him just as hotly, invasive and demanding when it flashes through his mind on a single, low whisper:

will you be happy?

shinsuke kita is human. he learns as he sees and lives as he’s learned, and what he saw growing up was that soulmates were bounded together till death do them part. a connection that’s set deep in stone, never to be erased by unforgiving weather and to persevere during the cruelest of storms. it’s an inevitable reality that the gods designed, so that mortals like himself should dance on stage and tell them a story. but shinsuke knows that not all these stories have a happy ending.

there are plays that end in tragedy and loss, those that only knew memories of pain and sang with death’s violin. man becomes the actor to a play that he has no choice in and dances on the puppet master’s strings, he surrenders control and gives himself up to the music, and he has no way of knowing the end of it until the curtains should fall. shinsuke has never been one to lay down his will, and yet, as winter melts once more into gray rain clouds and scattered showers, he’s reminded of his mortality, of the fate that’s been sealed away in the falling of rain. shinsuke kita is human, and so he must, like all men do, bend to fate’s will and never utter a word against her.

and for a long time, the sentiment caused him to completely reject the idea of a soulmate.

that feeling of helplessness that would wash over him with the rain turned into a bitterness that crushed his lungs between tightened fist. the acceptance of an inevitable waltz — whether it be to eternal happiness or to a cruel melody — turned into rebellious loathing that spat in the face of destiny. it’s entirely childish in its tale, like a toddler throwing a tantrum because he doesn’t want to give up his precious toy. that toy is his control, the power he had to live his life by his truth, not by that of a higher being. he’s human, after all, and humans are selfish and resentful by nature.

he finds himself with a heavy chest today, as well, as he waits for the pouring rain to subside. the small shelter in the middle of the garden park is familiar, and carries with it the memories of his epiphany, the one that created thunder storms in his once tranquil heart, and for that, he hates this place. the sound of the rain hitting the roof is like nails scratching against the chalkboard; the sound of droplets hitting the lake like an annoying whining that he can’t get out of his head. shinsuke curses this little pocket away from the world with all the childish anger in the world — let it be damned that doing so wouldn’t change anything. for once, he let himself go on a petty grudge against the universe, and against that looming stage and its heavy curtains.

it’s nearly faint, but he picks up on the patter-patter of footfalls that quickly approach him, and he turns bronze coloured eyes to find your rain-drenched figure running for shelter under the little gazebo. you’re out of breath by the time you make it underneath, letting out an exhausted and frustrated sigh as you press your hands to your knees, and shinsuke finds himself sympathizing with the way you bitterly push your hair from your face. you’re an ordinary office worker, from what he can see; you’ve hidden what looks to be a messenger back beneath your coat, leaving you to tremble in a thin button-up. this day’s downpour had been sudden, unexpected as spring would soon surrender to the approaching summer, and he imagines that he would have been in a similar position as yourself had he not packed his umbrella beforehand.

a silence settles over the both of you that’s only broken by the heavy rain, but the presence of it is so soothing that shinsuke finds himself breathing on a lighter air. suddenly the smell of petrichor turns sweeter, the melody of raindrops melting into a distant lullaby, and for the first time, shinsuke feels his heart melt under an indescribable sense of warmth despite the weather. and when your eyes turn to find his, a helpless grin on your lips, he feels that warmth explode under summer fireworks and coarse throhgh his veins like liquid lightning.

“it’s raining a lot today, isn’t it?”

for the second time in his life, shinsuke has an epiphany under the shelter in the garden.

he feels every bit of resentment vanish on a sudden gust of wind, one that sends raindrops splashing against his skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice. not when grey clouds suddenly reveal to him pillars of sunlight that embrace your figure and makes you glow against a background of green leaves. the rain turns into something sweet and enticing, and it suddenly gives shinsuke this unexplainable urge to grab your hand and dance with you underneath the pouring showers, where he can hear your voice ring out on chimes of laughter and innocent bliss. in mere seconds, he manages to let go of the dark clouds that he’d unintentionally harboured on his chest, he let them burst with the weight of anger and childish fury so that they would hit the earth on giant droplets of rain.

shinsuke kita is human — he’s imperfect, mortal. he feels and he thinks and he speaks what’s on his mind. he can hate, and he can love: he can make that decision on whether or not to hold useless grudges and to curse a destiny he can’t change, or to welcome that inevitability with the willingness to learn and grow.

today, as he stands beneath a wooden shelter, hiding from the heavy rains, he decides to stretch his hand out and let the water hit his skin.

davi hits 200 followers — haikyuu!! au writing event! 💕

taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @bootylikepeachy @tsumue

send an ask to be added!

#kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #kita x reader scenario #kita x reader imagine #kita x y/n #kita x reader angst #kita x reader fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader imagine #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu x reader fluff #davi hits 200! ✨ #haikyuu!! au event 💫

[ahundredtimesover]

Mimi, I love you and I think you're one of my favorite writers in this app, but how come many of your stories JK always seemed like he was too quick to fall in love? :( I mean your plot and your wording is so amazing that I felt like not everyone can be like that, but in Please Love Me and Fight For You, how is JK came from becoming a stranger to suddenly fell in love? I think you missed out some of that part to include:(

Hi, anon! Thank you for appreciating the plot and wording of my stories ☺️ that means a lot!

As for your question, I try to be mindful when writing JK’s character’s development in parallel to the development of his relationship with OC bc I’m more into the slow buildup of feelings more than the sudden realization of it. I’m not sure if you want clarifications but I pointed them out hehe *spoilers below* (sorry it got so long! My stories are always so lengthy bc I try to flesh out emotions and motivations so I thought they were clear huhu)

PLM JK was friends with OC for over 20 years and from the get-go, I established his admiration for her that he’d had since he was a child but which he denies like during Seokjin’s wedding. And while JK wasn’t into the arrangement at first, I explained why (it was more for rebellion than it was against her). Their domestic moments brought him comfort, and he realized he felt something for her post-fight. There was always something there, he just didn’t want to admit it for reasons that were explained 🙂 He did say he loves her months after they got married, so that also took time.

FFY JK started as indifferent to OC but his admiration for her (physical beauty in ch2, kindness and capabilities in ch3) slowly built. He just seemed against it bc he wasn’t used to someone showing care and concern for him. Post-incident, he went through the crisis of why he acted the way he did in the alley with OC being in danger, and that was the start of something (from our POV) but again, he was confused. That recovery period was what did it for him (which he contrasted to how Soo-ah treated him), and he had that epiphany when they slept next to each other. As of ch6, he hasn’t actually said he loves her hehe so there’s that. I clarify more of his feelings in the last 2 chapters 🙂 I actually thought them getting together from ch5-6 took so long haha

But I appreciate your question, though! I feel like I write enough of his emotional journey to realizing his feelings for OC but I understand, too, if it may not come across 🙂

#mimianswers #tldr: both JK’s establish their admiration or appreciation for OC early on #he’s either jsut in denial or confused but #I think I write the buildup of his emotions enough #but I get that it may not always come through so I’ve noted this #I get worried about overwriting so I try to strike a balance #please love me #fight for you

[tamgerines]

KH3 First Impression and Complete Thoughts

BACKGROUND: i've played kh1, com, kh2, bbs, 2.8, and a bit of khux. i've watched coded and 3d on yt, so i know the story relatively well. this is an impression of my first playthrough. i did my run on standard mode and watched the secret ending on yt. i mostly did this for story, so this will have my initial impressions based on my run that will not cover extra content like the phone mini games and cooking.  my opinions are subjected to change if i ever do any later playthroughs. pls, feel free to disagree w/ me.

!!! WARNING: THERE WILL BE A LOT OF STORY SPOILERS!!!

AUDIO: 

Music: utada is queen!!! that opening song!!! also i kept noticing how lit the songs are in each world esp frozen???  and aqua's. worth a replay just for the soundtrack alone.

Voice Acting: everyone sounded great for the most part. sora’s va have certainly improved and sounds less strained. his vanitas voice has suffered significantly though lolololol. i think i read that someone called it a wannabe dark knight voice? the organization sounded incredible, w/ my fav being xemnas, marluxia, and larxene. the disney and pixar va’s are incredible w/ my fav probably being randall in monster’s inc. 

some ppl did not get vas like xaldin and laxeaus. and phil in hercules. which were all very disappointing bc in the scenes that they were in, they would just stand around woodenly, and it’s very noticeable. 

VISUALS: 

mostly a+. environments are beautiful. water and frost textures are amazing!!! you can really feel that waterga and blizzaga. fur textures in monster's inc. could use some work. little details like the sails moving in potc rly make the worlds come alive. this could be a me prob, but environments in certain worlds make it very hard to see map markers, treasure chests, and disney emblems (which are supposed to be hard to find, but still). mostly in tangled.

strangely enough, this is the only game where i prefer in game graphics to cgi. it's already highly expressive and there's something creepy and uncanny about the cgi esp in the final fight. and it's mostly bc sora's thin chapped lips throughout the entire game suddenly becomes full.

DESIGNS: 

i don't love everyone's outfit or sora's outfit changes in this game besides toy story. this is something i alrdy knew going in, but i've always felt like the outfits in kh1 and 2 rly suited each of the character's personalities. and this is not just destiny trio but even chars like roxas, the twilight town kids and the hollow bastion crew. the move towards a uniformed look makes no sense to me like is it to unify the key bearers as one force against the organization? i could understand why destiny trio was wearing plaid but why the twilight town kids also? by the end of the game, almost everyone was wearing black and it's just boring to me. like there's a right way to do uniform while retaining characters' individual looks, and that's the wayfinder trio in bbs. in this game, not so much.

an aside, but i'm sort of disappointed in the hud moving to 3d too. the 2d portraits have always been part of kh so it's kinda a bum to see it go away.

i don't love the lvl designs but it might also be due to a narrative and pacing issue that i'll expand on. any case, vertical maps are a challenge to figure out. i don't consider myself bad at directions but there are so many moments, esp in hercules and tangled where i would be like where the heck do i go next (and i have the map) only for me to look up and find a shotlock teleport point (and this isn't so much a thing that heightens the difficulty but a time waster).

lvls and bosses in previous kh games have always been known for their gimmicks and mechanics, but in this game particularly i found it to be more tedious? and this mostly applies to frozen: who the fuck designed frozen? who the fuck thought it's a good lvl design to have sora climb a mountain, get kick off it twice, and climb it again as good lvl design? who?

all the disney bosses started blending together for me bc they're literally all giant monsters and rly easy. i think the mistake here is the fact that the disney worlds are put back to back whereas in kh1/2/bbs you have the interruption of original worlds and an actually playable important parts to the main story, in this game all the important storyline in radiant garden are locked in cutscenes interspersed throughout the game between finishing disney worlds.

a lot of ppl might disagree w this, but i miss the cinematic reaction commands and limit attacks. we still have them but i find them to be on a much smaller scale in the form of drive finishers and situation commands, but i find them to be less imaginative in kh3 in order to be less """"disruptive""" to the gameplay. i've always found cinematics charming in previous games as a way to show sora interacting with his party members during combat. little things like beast putting a hand on sora's shoulder, aladdin leaning on him, or riku bumping his fist have a way of making the friendships he forms feel organic. outside of link commands/ summons, in this game, he........just throws a lot of ppl around or is thrown around?

GAMEPLAY:

already sort of went through parts of it in the previous section, but overall combat was smooth. i love how mobile sora is in this game. the improvement to his running speed and addition of all the mobile skills like dodge roll, super slide, flow motion, blizzard skating, etc. makes combat feel fast paced and juking so easy.

magic is super improved on ever since 2.8 and feels satisfying to use esp bc i feel like ur given a lot more mp now and with the ability to save the last of your mana for cure, it feels like you're not always budgeting your magic.

underwater combat was smoother than i expected.

it's a mistake putting almost all the commands on the triangle button. there's so much options you can do in combat and you'd mean to activate one thing, but then an attraction flow comes out and you just want to die. it gets a bit easier as i went on and got more used to the controls, but in general, i still think it's a mistake to not to have an ability or something to disable certain features like in kh2 fm.

gummy ships continue to be a thing. why. i don’t like how i have to turn the camera myself now ;;;. 

i'm not a speedrunner or anything, so i can't say too much else about fighting. the physical combos to me did feel like he was spinning a bit too much tho.

STORY: oh, fucking boy.

i'm not mad, i'm not disappointed, and i'm not even surprised. i already knew that post bbs, kh has already departed far from the franchise i loved as a kid and still today, at least story wise. but let's walk through it.

Disney Worlds: the disney worlds was literally a retelling of their movies. and unlike in kh2 and bbs, where visits to disney worlds were split into two parts, with the first part following the disney story and the second part being heavily tied to the main kh story and thus having original content, the disney worlds in kh3 only get one long visit. and the integration of kh into disney was just done so poorly. remember how kh villains used to kidnap princesses? remember how they used to actually conspire to take disney characters' hearts and turn them dark? remember, you know, when they were still evil and actually interfered with the worlds? in almost every world in kh3, an org member just comes says vague menacing things to sora, calls him stupid, and then leaves. yeah. and oh, maleficent and pete looks for a black box only to not find it, and leaves. AND THEY DON'T DO ANYTHING ELSE FOR THE REST OF THE GAME.

the pixar worlds + bh6 were the only ones with any actual new content and they feel so fresh. i esp loveeeeeeeed toy story omg. the script was so good, funny, and heartwarming. the pixar consultants should have helped kh all the way tbh.

like previous games, there's an attempt for each disney world to thematically tie into the main kh story. in this game, it was as heavy handed as ever, probably even more so. 

Original Worlds: onto the meat of kh, the main story was rushed up until the end. you have a slew of disney worlds, then bam, they slam you with all the human bosses and the important story stuff. 

the ‘awakening’ of roxas, xion, and ventus were very rushed. you literally have one moment they’re no there then two seconds of white screen and all of a sudden they’re there. 

there’s a shit ton of shoehorned character redemption arcs: vexen, demyx, saix, eraqus, xehanort, xemnas, ansem. all were done either offscreen or by some miracle, they reached an epiphany after sora beat his keyblade into their heads. 

the only death scene that i actually liked, that a lot of ppl complained about, was vanitas bc yes, although i thought his character had so much potential, it was at least a consistent and sympathetic death. bless him, born a villain die a villain. same with xemnas bc i loved his last speech. 

xehanort was a shitty villain through and through. no one understood his motivation; it’s like nomura took a page from thanos’ guide of how to write villains, gave him some stupid ass goal to have a keyblade war to restart the world, and then just have him...get everything he wanted? his estranged friend comes back in ghost form for whatever reason and is just like ok we’re cool man even tho u took my student and indirectly murdered me and then gets taken up to heart heaven, like O K. and like what’s the most frustrating is that it’s implied they’re keeping him as a villain??? bc fucking ymx is like ooohh imma just go back to my own time via time travel. it’s too late for u sora hurdur. 

and the younger members of the organization, the ones that we do know were in khux. we don’t get to know how they became nobodies and they don’t get a redemption??? really???  

you can tell they tried, TRIED, hard to give everyone closure. and they miserably failed to close plot points. they actually opened more. who the fuck is the unnamed girl in lea and isa’s storyline? why the fuck did you mention her if you were going to play the pronoun game and not name her??? what the fuck was in the black box??? why are they looking for it when no one know what’s in it??? why the fuck was repliku inside of riku the whole fucking time??? why have org members be norted if they can still have agency and choose to betray xehanort??? why the fuck was BOTH sora and riku in different worlds in the secret ending????? ? ? ? 

and tho i’m very glad that wayfinder and sea salt trios get their happy ending, the destiny trio had their characters assassinated. kairi was teased to become an independent character of her own and fight alongside sora, only to get shafted to become a damsel in distress, again, literally replaced by xion in one of the last battles, AND referred to as ‘motivation’ for sora by xehanort lol. sora, the guy who’s always going my friends are my power, ONLY grieves about losing kairi, accrediting all of his strength ONLY TO HER. riku, who spent the first game desperately trying to get kairi’s heart back, and who protected her from saix in the second, suddenly doesn’t give a shit about her and is just there as sora’s moral support. it’s so frustrating that nomura has the audacity to say that this series is primarily about friendship and then pull this shit lol. it’s transparent. 

CONCLUSION: 

i think for me, the quintessential kh trilogy has always been kh1, com, and kh2. as far as i’m concerned, the story should have ended there for destiny trio. and it’s like nomura said, how he feels more sympathetic towards villains now, i think nomura’s ideas have outgrown his main character. 

sora’s journey worked in 1, com, and 2 because he had an overarching goal to find kairi and riku and return home. not everyone has to understand heartless vs. nobodies or dark vs. light but at least, anyone can understand the desperation of saving your friends. when that framework is taken away, sora’s goals and motivations become unclear; he’s a kid and has little reason to be caught up in xehanort’s plans, the keyblade war, or the organization’s agendas. and his failure to grow with the increasing complexity of the plot, to investigate for himself the bigger picture or even come into a similar realization of his own darkness/ balance like riku, makes him unfit; he’s a reactionary character instead of an active one. that’s why this game, being experienced from his point of view, felt mostly like a catch up to speed for sora and a set up to nomura’s next big thing instead of a genuine ending.  i honestly don’t think nomura knows what to do with him and with kingdom hearts anymore. 

kh3 is a game wrapped in nostalgia and promised something bigger than it could fulfill. and aside from better graphics and improved gameplay, the story wasn’t worth the wait. 

#kh3 spoilers #my thoughts #i didnt mean for my ramblings to get so long but #yeah im im sad

[guileheroine]

some behind the scenes on the everthere

google doc spring clean took me back to old notes and drafts of this au. here are some stray headcanons, unused ideas unlikely to be used later etc.

whenever the flowers they keep at home are mentioned, they have some association with the girls’ current situation (blue hyacinths for constancy when they get (back) into their friendly groove after korra moves in; freesias for trust the day they clear the air/bad blood, red carnations for korra’s achey heart when asami goes out with nia)

was originally going to have flashbacks to pre-reunion times but i figured it’d be superfluous with 2 povs + lots of introspection in the mix

also in take 0 theclimax was asami that gets a great and sudden job offer somewhere else, which she wants to accept partially bc it’s best for her not to be with korra day in day out. the desperate </3 of this prospect is the turning point for korra realising/externalising her feelings. v dramatic and ultimately discarded bc 

i wanted it to be a Convergence story - more incremental, slice of life, w/o so much of an external catalyst. no real tipping point. their coming together naturally/gradually/fairly peacefully. hence

each of 3 vague acts brings them closer: first 5 chapters = fully regaining friendship (ends with asami not bottling her issues), second 5 = deepening and blurring that dynamic with romantic feelings (ends with korra’s dream epiphany), final 5 = pure UST resolution

it’s set oct 2016 - may 2017 excluding the epilogue so it was written realISH time until ~xmaswas originally going to culminate in a fall camping trip a la spirit world - they like goin on those great north american road trips to cabins and beaches and areas of outstanding natural beauty

asami’s comfortably bisexual but not entirely secure about this within their dynamic due to navigating v strong feelings for korra. a labels kinda gal

korra’s never had a conscious thought about her sexuality bc she thinks with her feelings and never caught any gay ones until ASAMI!!1. would alight on bisexual if someone asked

korra cooks and takes the trash out bc it grosses asami out, asami cleans and repairs everything that needs it in a leaky old townhouse

they’re super busy in the days/weeks after they get together so they end up with a lot of cute/deep text discussions and spend contact hours like making out

everything i know about new york i learnt from cbs elementary, probably the main unconscious inspiration for the wider setting in my head 

this is the worst reality of a modern au but i think when naga dies they get a real kid (adopt, eventually 2)

i do see them getting married in the future, the aesthetic details of which may also emerge in the future

some ideas/moments that would have been OTT (esp w the wedding chapter) went into blessings in disguise, in case it’s not obvious. kinda wanted a fake dating chapter but it would have been too convoluted

#the everthere #my fic

[twdmusicboxmystery]

8x09: Analysis

Good morning! How did everyone like the episode last night? Today I'm going to talk about broad plot points. Tomorrow I'll do a post about the details.

I thought it was a beautiful episode. A really good send off for Carl. I cried several times.

***Warning: Spoilers for 8x09 about in this episode. Don’t read until you’ve watched! You’ve been warned!***

Carl

5x09 Parallels. I've said several times I thought there would be parallels between this episode and 5x09, where Tyreese died. There weren't as many as I expected, but they were there. The biggest one was seeing Rick and Michonne dig Carl's grave at the beginning, even though we didn’t actually see him die until the end. 

Very similar to Ty’s death. We saw the grave being dug at the beginning of 5x09, but didn't understand whose grave it was until the end. In that case, we had no idea Ty would die (unless we read spoilers) until the end of the episode. The difference here was that we knew Carl would die when his bite was revealed in 8x08.

Carl told Judith that he didn't beat the world, as Lori said he would. I have to say I disagree. He was bitten. Of course he still beat the world in his own way. But he said to everyone, as he was dying, to recognition, especially, showed that almost outgrown the world. It was his own special kind of transcendence. In a way, that’s a parallel to Tyreese too, as Tyreese died thinking about forgiveness and peace.

Huge emphasis on the fact that he got to say goodbye. In the flashbacks, Michonne left him a note saying “I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye” for when she left with Rosita to see the Sanctuary. 

Of course, she DID get to say goodbye because she made it back in time. They talked about goodbyes several times throughout the episode. Remember that Beth hated goodbyes, and no one really got to say goodbye to her because her death was so sudden. Major anti-parallels there. Of course, it's all-important that he got to say goodbye and we saw his burial.

It's important that we saw the flashbacks at all. We have major precedence for this. When they don't show us something, they always flash back to it later. It. For example, in S4 we saw Ricky kick Carol out of the prison. In S5, they showed us flashbacks to what happened to her during that missing time. The same thing is true here. And it wasn't just Carl's point of view that we flashback to. We also saw flashbacks how the Saviors escaped the sanctuary. Before, Rick was imprisoned at the junkyard, and when he returned, he didn't know what happened. So it flashed back to Morgan's point of view as well, showing what happened what we missed.

This is important because it shows that everything we missed with Beth will have to be shown eventually. They ALWAYS eventually show us events that are skipped. There's a lot of unexplained things around Beth, the biggest ones being unexplained stuff that happened the Grady, and of course those missing 17 days after Coda.

I also thought it was interesting that he that they juxtaposed Carl’s words with Morgan's brutality. I’ll come back to this, but we could see Carl's goodness and transcendence and then they put it side-by-side with Morgan and his cold, rage-driven killing.

Carl talked about 3x16! Guys, this is huge! We some of the dialogue in the trailer, so I’ve already touched on this when it comes to callbacks to S4, but him talking about 3x16 is pretty much a confirmation everything I wrote in my Beth Greene was Always Gimpel's Sheriff post, and a lot of the stuff both me and @thegloriouscollectorlady have been talking about lately. Carl talked about shooting the Woodbury kid in 3x16. 

Not only was Beth present, which we would read into any way, but more importantly, it's what led to Rick becoming a farmer and the entire arc in 4a. I'll talk a lot more about this later this week, but we’re seeing major story arcs from S4 come full circle this season. It’s extremely significant and it makes me super happy.

Carl gives Judith the hat. I don’t think I need to tell everyone how significant that was. The sheriff will live on, specifically in the little one that Beth always took care of. I remember back when 5x10 first aired, I noted that Carl took care of Judith. He even used the sheriff's hat to protect her from the rain.

So Beth took care of Judith most of her life. When she disappeared Carl stepped in that role more fully, taking on Judah's care almost entirely while they were on the road. I feel like they tried to have Carl specifically step into that role, which Beth previous occupied. Now they put the sheriff's hat on Judith, who has only ever been worn by few other characters. (Rick, Carl, Beth)

Now Daryl has assumed the role. We knew he would bc of the trailer, but it’s significant that his attitude wasn’t one of sadness about taking Judith. It wasn't something he had to do, it was something he wanted to do. He was very firm and confident about it. He picked up Judith, sheriff's hat and all, and, wearing his vest, walked out with her. I thought it was really interesting the way the camera focused on his back. We can almost see this is a return to S4 Daryl. He's confident and strong, he's got his best back, and he's caring for the "new sheriff." So we don't know exactly where this will lead, but symbolically it's very significant. 

Remember those wings have always marked him as a guardian and protector, which is why, symbolically, he needed to regain the vest before he took over protecting Judith.

Finally, Carl actually died with the sunrise. 

So now we’ve gotten through the night, and we have a new day. There were several parallels to Andrea's death. Carl shot himself, rather than waiting to succumb to the fever. The other thing I noticed is that Rick and Michonne stood outside on the porch and heard the shot. That's almost exactly what happened with Andrea's death. Even though Michonne stayed with Andrea, will the viewers didn't see her shoot herself. We saw Daryl and the others outside the door and their devastated reactions to hearing the shot.

So what does this mean for TD? I hope it means that with this new day we’ll see Beth next episode. I also want to point out that Andrea's that happened in 3x16, which was mentioned here a lot. Almost like they’re trying to align this episode with 3x16. In the next episode, 4x01, we got the Bethyl hug. So I’m really, really hoping, that we’ll get at least the beginning of Beth’s return in the next episode.

Siddiq

Siddiq is a freaking doctor! That, we did not see coming. In the comic books, Siddiq is a fisherman and a construction worker, not a doctor. This is something they are doing for the show. We don't see any evidence that he knows how to cure bites, but he did talk about treating one, at least insofar as reducing the fever and making the patient more comfortable. He’s the first person we’ve ever heard talk about treating a bite at all. That’s a big deal. We need to watch this story line closely.

Honoring Carl. Siddiq talked about honoring Carl. He said because Carl saved him, he would honor Carl by doing whatever he could to help TF. We don't know exactly why yet, but from the trailer, he, Daryl and Rosita go on a mission that takes them through the swamp. So whatever Siddiq is up to, he thinks it will help TF in some. I repeat, I really think something about Siddiq will both bring Beth back into the picture, and perhaps help TF win the war. That's why Carl’s sacrifice will be worth it.

 The last time we heard a lot of talk about honoring someone was right after Beth's death. To honor Beth, Rick wanted to take Noah home to Virginia. And he did. @thegloriouscollectorlady pointed out that while there's definitely a parallel here, it's kind of an anti-parallel. In S5, TF honored Beth by taking a in stranger (Noah) and doing something for them, because it's what Beth wanted. In S8, the stranger (Siddiq) is going to honor Carl by helping TF. So it's the same thing, but in reverse. With that being the case, let's hope we see the reverse of Coda next. Like this represents 5x09 and perhaps were moving backward toward Coda and the opposite result.

Carol and Henry. I had a major epiphany during this episode. In THIS POST I said that in order for Carol's arc to resolve, she needed to figure out how to love and nurture another child as she did Sophia. Last night, I realized I’m missing one big element. Henry kill Gavin, which was disturbing. Go back and watch that scene. Watch the reaction of all the adults. Ezekiel was merely shocked. Carol was so horrified she turned away for a minute. Morgan looked like he might throw up.

While it’s understandable because he obviously holds Gavin responsible for Benjamin’s death, the way the show portrayed this was as something very dark. It came across as a callback to Lizzie, who also had no problem killing the living. It’s like they’re trying to say Henry is straying onto a dark path. Carol wouldn’t be able to help but think of Lizzie when this happened, which is why she was so angry at him, and Ezekiel couldn’t understand. So, it's not just a matter of her loving the child, but her saving him from becoming like Lizzie. She failed with Lizzie. She should've seen what was wrong and didn't, but perhaps she will with Henry.

I’ll talk about this more later in the week as well, but for now, it’s important that Carol, Ezekiel and Morgan were there. We’ve thought since S7 that Carol and Ezekiel will be parents to Henry, but it’s interesting that Morgan is entangled in this too. He and Carol both lost biological children, specifically because they failed to save them (a theme between Rick and Carl in this episode). Now these three adults all saw Henry kill a man. It doesn’t matter whether or not Gavin deserved it. The point is that Henry did it without hesitation and wasn’t as bothered by it as he should have been. That’s not good. So now these three need to figure out how to save Henry in the same way Rick saved Carl in 4a.

The two, final “shocking” scenes we hoped would be Beth. I'm pretty sure the one the blogger referred to is the one that showed Negan at Alexandria. That's what she meant about the future. It was part of Carl’s vision and shows that he wants Negan to actually become part of the community, integrate with Alexandria and have everyone work together.

 Sorry to keep saying this, but I will do a separate post on how significant this is, especially where S4 is concerned. I don't know that Negan will ever actually integrate into TF’s community the way Carl wants, but this will most definitely drive the plot forward for Rick.

The second scene is still very unexplained. Remember that in 8x01, we saw two flashes forward: Rick’s old man coda (which I now have to call Carl's) and then the one where Rick’s eyes are red-rimmed and the plate-glass crosses hang above him. We always figured that might be Carl's funeral. It's not. They buried Carl in this episode, and then showed that scene separately. It’s definitely not the same thing. 

Rick sits against a tree, bleeding from a wound on his ribs. He has blood all over his hand. Honestly, it looks like a scene where he could be dying. (I still don't think he actually will; I feel like they’re trying to make us believe that. I could be wrong, of course.)

I had a somewhat disturbing thought while re-watching last night. Perhaps Rick will try and make nice with Negan to fulfill Carl's best wishes, and Negan will betray him by either stabbing or shooting him in the ribs. Maybe that's what we’re seeing in this scene. That would explain why he says, "my mercy prevailed over my wrath." It sounds like he's very resigned to his own death. It's like he's saying, “well, at least I was merciful, as Carl wanted.” This is just me musing over what it might be. We really have no idea.

I've never thought that Rick would die, and still don't. But remember THIS POST about Dawn's back story and how it's going to relate to Beth's future arc. Dawn actually killed Capt. Hanson. I’ve always said Beth won’t do that, because she's a much better person than Dawn. But maybe it's not about Beth killing Rick. Maybe someone else will either kill him or try to. Whether he's dead or just severely incapacitated, someone else will have to step into leadership. Based on the back story and foreshadowing surrounding Beth at Grady, it will be her. Either way, it would be tied to Carl, Carl's death, and Carl's last wishes. But again, this is just conjecture.

Overall, I really loved this episode. I thought it was beautiful. All the symbolism in it, which I'll go over in more detail tomorrow, makes me as hopeful as ever for TD. What did everyone else think?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here

[dubsdeedubs]

A Thousand Natural Shocks [15/16]

[A/N: I BET YOU THOUGHT YOU SAW THE LAST OF ME

split the last chapter into two bc i figure yall would like a six thousand word thing NOW as opposed to a 15 thousand word monster god knows when.  long story short, i finished school for the term, i have a job for summer (in boston!) and i’m ready to WRITE]

[AO3]

Near the end of 1972, about halfway through earning his first doctorate, Stanford Pines experienced an Epiphany.

Though slightly less graceful and Romantic than having an apple fall upon his head, or even reciting Goethe while gazing upon the rays of a setting sun (as always, Tesla never did anything by halves), the effect on the young scientist proved no less than electrifying. Certainly no less dramatic, judging by the foot-wide spray radius of the resulting half-mug of coffee shattered onto the floor.

A particularly difficult proof had been the catalyst; specifically, a problem that had been built on such theoretical ground that the soon-to-be Dr. Pines had to navigate several levels of hypotheticals and complete nonsense - that albeit did have some meaning with three textbooks' worth of context and a state-of-the-art graphing calculator 'borrowed' from a university laboratory - to even seriously approach the question itself.

A study of the relation of objects and velocity in zero-gravity conditions outside the known universe, which in fact had nothing to do with his field of study at all. Or any field of study relevant to humanity for the next hundred years, for that matter.

(Questioning why the man had spent forty-three sleepless hours validating a concept that had nothing at all to do with practicality and usefulness would show no less than a deep, fundamental misunderstanding of the person Stanford Pines was.)

Ford lifted a hand, felt his own face slowly, contemplatively… and was suddenly, unhappily aware that he did not remember the last time he had taken a shower. Still staring at the wall with unfocused eyes, he opened his mouth, somehow managing not to recoil from the immediate stench of his own Terrible Hygiene Decisions, and spoke out loud to the audience of himself and one snoring roommate.

- It is important to note, however, that words are rarely enough to express a particularly complex idea,. Case in point, Ford's thought process had already finished the marathon when his sentence had just begun to leave his mouth, and in fact, was contemplating whether to jog back to the starting line for the complimentary juicebox.

He thought: space is enormous, space is complex, to an extent that it is necessary to accept that space is of a scale beyond all human comprehension. It follows then that most, if not all of the rules that governs it - if any existed, which was also up for debate - would not make any logical human sense. Perhaps, it was here at the edges of the universe that dimension boundaries blurred, that the divide between mind and body weakened, that reality itself gave a Great Big Shrug.

Then, perhaps -

"Space," Ford said slowly, softly, with the hesitant tone of a man who saw himself approaching a terrible, unknowable truth, "is big."

A tear welled at the corner of his left eye.

Stanford was Not Wrong. But had his roommate been awake and therefore, had thrown a pillow at Ford's head, there was no creature in the history of existence that would have blamed him. At least two would have bought him a drink for the trouble.

Unfortunately, the magnitude of Ford's breakthrough was undercut somewhat by his sudden loss of consciousness and short-term memory about forty-three seconds afterwards, after an attempt to walk straight through the nearest wall. While he would live on despite reaching this critical mass of awful life choices, the fact that his human mind had erased all of the night's events in a desperate attempt at survival would turn out to be a missed opportunity.

Had he remembered, then more than thirty years later, hanging slack-limbed and dangling in a dark place that was both completely in his head and somewhere on the fringes of a distant galaxy, Stanford would have felt greatly validated in having proved his theory correct firsthand.

...Though perhaps, with the deep, leaden exhaustion that pooled in his gut and dragged at his every limb with near physical weight, the less things his overworked mind had to deal with, the better.

Not that there were many thoughts to be had in the first place. There were only two things that Ford was aware of. One, the nothingness he could 'see' - that was, the closest approximation in English to a much more esoteric concept - spreading out before him for miles in every direction.

Then, there was what he couldn't see but could feel nonetheless: the burning weight of a gaze magnified by a hundred, thousand times, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. A mystery, one that would normally call out to Stanford Pines with a force greater than a siren's song.

But Ford was tired, too tired for anything that involved any kind of active consciousness. He had been on some kind of journey, one that had been long and difficult but ended too soon all the same. He had wanted more - more time, more chances, more of… something. Someone.

But that didn't matter now. He had finished. He was over, he was complete.

He could rest now.

And he did, because time had no meaning where he was now. He knew without knowing how that with a blink there would come a minute and leave a millennium. For the first in a very, very long time, there were no voices to be heard in his head, not even his own. There was no desire to think, to probe, to question. This was an ending, his ending, and because it was good and he was happy he should stay like this forever -

Ford!

- but.

It took every bit of strength he had for Ford to lift his head.

The darkness opened their many eyes.

He was surrounded from every side, every angle. He was within, somewhere deep inside the innards of some colossal existence, part of the bigger whole. But despite the cool slide of substance over his exposed skin and the eerie green brightness of the light that had illuminated his surroundings, he felt calm, safe.

He was protected here, he knew. He was theirs, after all.

And They Were His.

Distantly, Ford could see the glint of stars.

Ford, wake up already, would ya?

He could feel a pressure, a solid and physical hold that he could feel first on his chest and then tightly around his torso. It was different, incredibly so, from the distant knowing, existing, of the here and now.

C'mon, he heard, coming quick and fervently desperate, Sixer, please -

It wasn't a voice, not one that could be measured by soundwaves and governed by physical laws. He felt it more than he heard it, the superficial annoyance, the raw panic underneath, the bone-deep gnaw of familiarity that came with a nickname that had meant such different things to him over the course of his lifetime.

"Stanley."

The pinpricks of light around him shuttered,

blinked,

and

Ford opened his eyes, cautiously and slowly, with the dim confusion of someone who didn't remember closing them in the first place. He squinted groggily through a pounding pain in his head that felt somewhat like a particularly bad migraine, or if he had been momentarily been blinded by some kind of thousand-watt camera flash.

...Something had happened.

Well. Yes. Clearly, he thought irritably just a moment afterwards. It was just incredibly difficult to think while being rather roughly shaken, which did the very opposite of help his headache or sort out his jumbled thoughts.

Ford let out a long, pained groan, too dazed to form coherent words, and flung - flopped, mostly - his arm upwards. He hit something solid - and sentient, he thought, when he immediately heard a surprised yelp.

The jolting movement stopped abruptly. A moment later, he heard his brother's voice, hoarse and uncertain, somewhere on the edge of his narrow line of sight.

"You… you good there, Sixer? Genius brain of yours still - tickin' on okay?"

Stan sounded concerned, but Ford couldn't imagine what for. In lieu of an answer, he pushed himself back up, eyes still clenched shut in a vain attempt to lessen the throbbing pain in his head. A hand on his shoulder steadied him, and another handed him a familiar pair of glasses.

"I'm fine, Stanley," he said, with far more certainty than he actually felt. The cool stale air and the unyielding chillness of the metal underneath his fingers meant he was in his basement laboratory, but not much else about his current circumstances were obvious.

Ford's glasses creaked alarmingly as he unfolded them open but did not break, which, he thought distantly and somewhat ridiculously, meant the reinforcements he had had done several months back in Astucía V had been a good call after all. He fumbled them on, opened his eyes -

He hissed and slapped a six-fingered hand over his eyes, uncomfortably aware that the noise he had just made was more likely to have come from a startled alleycat than a grown man.

Just a bit too much of Stanley.

"I gotta say," his brother said hesitantly, an expression of careful concern on his craggy face. "You… don't look anything close to fine right now. Heck." Stan let out a shaky breath of laughter, and gave Ford an unreadable look that he almost didn't catch through his fingers. "...Just the fact that we're having this talk right now makes me think that you're still bit scrambled up over what just happened, and -."

"Your pants," Ford blurted.

There was a brief, shocked silence. Stan opened his mouth, closed it again. "...Uh. What about my pants?"

"Your pants," he repeated, suddenly unsure of how and why he had ended up in this specific, current conversation, "are not on you."

In fact, there was not much of anything on his brother at all. Not the cheap suit he had been wearing like a uniform for the past several weeks, not the musty old fez usually perched on his gray hair.

(though of course Stan wouldn't be wearing that fez, he didn't have it anymore, which Ford knew because -

because - ?)

Which begged a question. Many questions really.

Starting with what happened in the past week why can't I remember any of it to why do I feel like someone just tried to force their way into my head with a wooden spoon, and most likely ending with why are you sitting naked on the floor of my private lab.

Typical concerns.

His brother opened his mouth slowly, as if he had only just realized the fact himself. Judging by how Stan glanced down at his own nude form with a look of dawning comprehension and inexplicable relief, was probably more or less accurate.

"Oh," Stan said blankly. "Well. I mean, yeah. It sure does looks like it."

He snorted, a sudden chuff of air through his nostrils. "Geez, Ford. That's it? That's all you're going to say to me, after everything that's happened?"

"Is…" Ford paused, reconsidering. He put his hand back down, suddenly feeling very foolish for his earlier dramatic reaction. He had grown up with his brother, after all. Why, had he been expecting to see something more when he opened his eyes than a gut and a truly frightening amount of body hair?

"Is there something that I should be asking you about?"

Stan's immediate, stunned silence was reply enough. Then, Ford realized unhappily, there was just one possibility, really. The only thing in the world they still both cared deeply about.

"Did - did Dipper and Mabel call? Are they facing some kind of trouble?"

"T-the kids?" Stanley repeated, utterly bewildered. "Oy, shouldn't I be the one askin' you that? They called you. Not - not me."

"They - did?" He replied weakly. "I can't… recall."

His brother looked at him for a long moment. Somewhere along the way, his shocked stare had evolved into a hard look of leaden understanding.

"...Y'know what, don't worry 'bout it," Stan said finally, voice hollow. He suddenly looked very drained and small, huddled without clothing in the dim light of the laboratory. "It doesn't matter."

There was something unsaid, something Ford was missing without knowing what. "What - what were we doing down here?" He asked hesitantly.

"...Dunno," Stan said blandly, not meeting his eyes. "Maybe we sleepwalked."

It was a clear lie, even by his brother's bottom standards. Ford bristled. "This isn't the time for jokes, Stan. If you're attempting to lie, at least put even a smidgen of effort into it!" He paused, tried to figure out a way to ask his question without sounding like a confused old man, and failed.

"...Stanley, what's going on?"

"I'm. I'm not sure how ta explain." His brother grimaced. "And maybe... maybe you don't remember it for good reason."

There was much unsaid, but Ford got the sense that the conversation had hit its last wall, at least where Stan was concerned. Still, he wasn't quite yet willing to let go of the mystery in front of him.

"While I was unconscious," he said haltingly, blinking through the clouded thoughts and muddled memories that haunted his every attempt to remember, "I thought, maybe, that I saw - some type of, creature, entity, a green light -"

Stan jerked. "Don't," he snapped, in a way that made Ford flinch despite himself. "...Sorry," he said after a long moment. "I just. Don't…. don't think 'bout what you saw. Not too hard. Let's just -"

His brother took a deep breath, let it back out. "Let's just let them go."

"Them -?"

The dead serious look in his brother's eye killed any questions Ford had felt compelled to ask.

"Alright," he said carefully instead, mentally filing the topic away for a less... volatile time. "I… shall."

His brother nodded, then drew himself up with a grim look, slow and hesitant, movements carefully deliberate other than his subtle shivering from the cold.

But then, just as it seemed he had made it, his knee (distorted) bent the wrong way. Stan crumpled to the ground almost immediately with a grunt of pain, large frame folding like a house of cards. Ford jolted at the familiar sound.

Familiar?

"New knees," Stan hissed inexplicably. He pushed flat against the ground, hefting himself up in slow, careful jerks. "Hell. New everything. Ford, can ya give me a hand? Just for this one bit."

He wasn't listening. There had been something there, then in that split-second of pain and dropped guard. As if a glint of residue light from the machinery had came and caught a moment too long in his brother's eye -

Oh, Ford thought stupidly, and it dawned on him like sun through the clouds.

The rest was autopilot. He moved forwards the final few steps and knelt down to catch Stan's look of pure confusion, saw his brother's mouth open in confused, kneejerk protest, and thought, with the most adamant certainty he had felt for a very long time, Stanley must be so, so cold -

Ford shrugged off his worn coat in one fluid motion and pulled the weathered warm cloth around his brother like a shield. There was a kind of reassuring certainty in the way it settled and pooled around him, as if it was tethering him to the ground with its comforting weight.

In ways his coat frankly shouldn't, logically. It had been a close fit on Ford himself, and despite the muscles gained from decades of space travel and the differences that came with the many years passed, he was still obviously of a smaller built than his barrel-chested, big-gutted brother. The old coat should not have covered Stan completely, let alone have practically enveloped him in the way that it did.

But then again, logic and logistics rarely had a place in the old tales. Ford should've known they wouldn't have much weight here.

He clung onto his brother in an embrace that was not returned, partly because Stan hadn't been given much time to react, mostly because Ford was near certain that he had inadvertently trapped his brother's arms against his body in that initial covering of not-quite-mantle. He had no complaints nonetheless.

The warm weight of his brother under his arms felt like an ending.

Stan shifted against him. "Ford?" His voice came in barely a whisper.

"Stanley," Ford said wetly, partly as an address, partly as a confirmation. "If you ever attempt another ridiculous, utterly pointless sacrifice in our lifetime, I will singlehandedly paint that Stanmobile of yours the brightest yellow I can find."

His brother jerked in his grasp in any unholy mixture of a twitch and a shudder. "You wouldn't dare."

"I would. And you know what else?" He continued, relishing every word. "I will sell it at a quarter of the market value. To a teenager."

"Over my dead bo - urk!" Stan wheezed as Ford tightened his grip even more. "...Huh. Too soon?"

He almost did not dignify the question with a response. "Yes."

His brother said nothing for a long moment. "I… I guess this means you do remember, after all," he said finally, hesitantly. "For a moment there, I thought ya wouldn't. I figured that -"

Stan broke off with a deathly wheeze. "Sixer, if you don't let me take a breath in the next five seconds -"

Ford let go immediately, even took a step back from the realization that he had been holding on just - a little bit too forcefully. "I didn't realize," he tried, watching his brother gulp in air as if his life had depended on it. "I was just -"

"Don't worry 'bout it. I'm fine," his brother interrupted, putting a hand up to halt Ford from babbling further. He thumped himself on the back and winced, sounding just like the old man he was supposed to be. "Whew. My nerd brother got strong. You spend a year in the cow throwing dimension or somethin'?"

That gave Ford pause. "There's - a cow throwing dimension?"

"Yeah. 'Course. There's some real weird places out there, deep in the multiverse. Even before they got there." His brother scratched his nose thoughtfully. "Don't get me started on the one without depth perception. Though, that was funny in a 'Three Dupes' kinda way, sure. Would make a great TV channel. Just wouldn't wanna live there."

"...No," Ford said slowly, "I don't imagine I would either."

They stood there for a long and awkward moment, perched over the smoldering remnants of a conversation that had only ever been a distraction from much harder topics lurking under the surface. Stan shuffled a bit and clung onto his brother's coat as if it was tethering him to reality, sneaking wary glances at his brother whenever he thought he wasn't looking.

Ford, on the other hand, stood silent and hesitant, unsure of how to broach a subject. The subject, as it was.

"You were going to let me forget," he said instead.

That, at least was somewhat familiar ground - accusations, arguments. Anger. But despite himself, he couldn't muster up the usual fire. It was as if he was reading off lines off a sheet, fully aware how they should sound but utterly unable to put himself into a mindset that now felt so utterly alien to his own.

"...Yeah," Stan admitted, voice carefully neutral. He avoided his gaze adamantly. "I would have."

Words swirled around in his mind, questions and demands, but none of them felt real or right for the moment. There was only one thing he could ask - "Why?"

Because so much had happened since the moment Dipper and Mabel had left town. Because he had learned and experienced things that had forced him to reconsider the views and beliefs he had clung onto throughout his life, because he himself had changed so greatly that he could barely recognize his past self.

Because if Stan had just let him forget, because if he hadn't seen the green glint in his brother's eye and the pieces hadn't all came back together, he would've just -

"Wasn't worth it." Stan looked up at him, gaze level. "Normal human isn't made to look into certain parts of the universe and come out with all their mental bits intact. And - " He grimaced. "Ya already know what happened to the last guy who saw me like that. So, I figured ya couldn't remember for a reason."

He let out a breath. "And I… just decided to take the hint."

"It wasn't just your choice to make," Ford said quietly. "I didn't -"

"Well, it wasn't all yours either, alright?" Stan snapped, a surprising explosion of sound that made Ford flinch. "And it wasn't like I could just ask you then for permission to drive you insane -"

"Stan, that's not what I meant."

Stan stopped at that, and sucked in a deep breath, clearly surprised by his own vehemence. "...I know it wasn't a great choice, Sixer," he admitted. "But as far as I could tell then, that was the only one I had." Until you just - came around. ...Just typical, y'know? How you end up side-stepping my entire moral conundrum just like that."

Stan paused, grimaced, clearly attempting to phrase a difficult question. "...What was it, in the end?" He asked at last. "That made you remember?"

"I saw your eyes," Ford said without thinking.

Immediately, an expression of pure horror burst into existence on his brother's face as his hands flew up to scrabble at the soft skin of his face.

"Stan, Stanley!" He exclaimed, grabbing his brother's hands to keep them still, to stop him from hurting himself. "That's not what I meant, your eyes are perfectly normal! They just - caught in the light, I suppose, and I was reminded of -"

"Oh," Stan said blankly. His fingers unclenched. He pulled his hands carefully out of Ford's slackened grip and lowered them slowly, awkwardly tangled with each other, to chest level. "Yeah. I, uh. I knew that."

Another silence fell on the two of them. And - wasn't that just perfectly ironic, that the two of them finally escaped the constant arguments and bickering by just not talking at all?

"Stan," Ford said at last, as steadily as he could. He needed to know, nearly as much as he didn't want to. "Are you alright? Honestly alright?"

"Sure I am," his brother replied with exaggerated nonchalance. "Look, you might be a sci-fi adventure hero or whatever, but all things considered, you're not that strong -"

"You know perfectly well that I'm not talking about that," Ford said, cutting despite himself. He put his hands behind his back to hide the way they were trembling. He had quite enough of diversions. "There were -" he paused, trying to find words that would not come to describe the things he had seen in and around his brother. "...You were coming apart in front of me. Before."

Stan winced and pulled Ford's coat tighter around himself. "It's fine, Sixer."

"No," he said frostily. "No, it really isn't. I saw you disintegrating, crumbling away -"

"...Don't ya think that's a little bit too dramatic - ?" Stan tried.

" - and all I knew," Ford continued, tone biting, "as I saw my own brother disappear into Gods knew where, was that there was nothing I could do but watch."

Stan shut up, clearly realizing correctly that his brother had no patience left for self-deprecating jokes and digressions from the topic at hand.

He took full advantage of the silence. "I was out of my depth," Ford admitted. "Every resource I had at my disposal, every bit of knowledge I had collected in years and decades traversing the multiverse, and yet I was utterly useless to help my own twin. I didn't - I didn't know what to do."

Ford paused, unsure how to explain how devastating of a fact that was to him. Him, Stanford Pines, the man who had the facts and a dozen university degrees under his belt, at a complete loss. He… might not have made the best choices in his own life, but knowledge was something he prided himself on possessing. It was how he defined himself. He - he had needed it.

And without that...

"I - still don't know," Ford said at last. "I don't understand how we're both alive. I don't know why you're corporeal again." He paused. "...Why you lost all your clothing. I can't be sure that this isn't some kind of - complex hallucination, and that I'll be waking up to actual reality in a few minutes. I…"

He trailed off. Had to swallow down something leaden to continue.

"I don't even know if you can stay."

Stan jerked at that. "Of fucking course I'm here to stay!" He exclaimed, his eyes wide. "Moses, Ford, I wouldn't just be sitting around here wasting time if - alright, look at this," he said, brandishing a single hairy arm in front of Ford's eyes. "This is one hundred percent human here, yeah? Nothing else. No more - green eyes, no weird cosmic… stuff. What you see is what you get."

He glanced down and grimaced. "...Ugh. Just wish I coulda thought myself up a smaller gut."

"But how do you know that, Stanley?" Ford demanded, tamping down on the smallest flutterings of hope in his chest. These were not answers, not yet. Just - blind reassurances, vague promises, and he had quite enough of those over the past few days. "How is this - even possible? Just before this, you told me your - your original body was gone, that all you had was -"

The wriggling star stuff, the gaping rip in reality, how his brother's skin had ripped to show empty space underneath.

"- that. How can you be back, how can you be human, if -"

"The deal, Sixer."

The words were said simply and matter-of-fact, but it cut through Ford's protests like a hot knife through warm butter. "What?" He said at last, after a moment of confused silence.

Stan gave him a pained smile. "Yeah. Just typical, huh? It's... always about the deal, in the end."

"I don't understand," Ford said slowly. "Your deal was to bring me back to this dimension, and you fulfilled that weeks ago. My presence here should be proof enough of that. What does that have to do with any of our present concerns?"

"Well, it was to get my brother back, to be specific. But yeah. Simple. Straightforward. Least," Stan said with a shrug, "that's what I thought when I made it. And in my defense, I wasn't in the best state of mind at the time, what with crashing straight off the mortal coil and all, but."

He shook his head disbelievingly, a helpless grin on his face. "The wording. The wording."

"The… wording?"

"It was pretty damn vague, wasn't it?" Stanley exclaimed, and the glint of excitement in his eyes reminded Ford suddenly of how his brother had always loved playing with words and meanings. It… was a comfort, seeing how that hadn't changed. Even if he had ended up using the ability to scam summer tourists instead of becoming a truly fearsome lawyer.

"Think 'bout it. Even after I fixed that portal, got it activated and brought you back home… I still didn't get my brother back, did I?"

"...Actually," Ford said slowly, "I would venture to say that that's exactly what it means."

"Aaaand that's why I'm the con artist and you're not, Sixer. See," Stan waved a hand wildly, as if gesturing to an invisible whiteboard with circled words and highlighted passages. "I brought Stanford Filbrick Pines back to this dimension. You. But getting my brother back - cuz in the way I really meant it, it wasn't just physically -"

He paused, as if genuinely waiting for the drama of it all - "That didn't happen 'til much later."

Stan gave Ford a meaningful look. "Couple weeks and about an hour or so later, if I had to really guess."

It took Stanford an embarrassingly long minute for the pieces to click. Remembering what exactly had happened a couple weeks and an hour or so after his return from the portal (which… was right now, wasn't it? Give or take a few hours. It had been a couple weeks and he had returned in the late afternoon and, oh) required substantial effort after the amount of rattling his brain had gone through.

But once he did -

i'm here. you did it. now fulfill your end of the bargain and

- the realization came quickly.

His eyes widened despite himself. "No. No."

"Hah." There was not much humor in that single bark of laughter. Stan looked away, an unreadable expression on his face. "...Yeah."

"That's - absolutely ridiculous!" Ford exclaimed, flabbergasted despite himself. "That's just semantics!"

"It always is with these things, Sixer."

But he was too caught up in the middle of an indignant rant to reply. "Not to mention, it's utterly pointless! I mean, surely, you must have already known that you had me back in every meaning of the word there is, the moment I stepped through that portal, you didn't need me to tell you that I -"

The uncomfortable look on Stan's face stopped him short.

"...You - didn't know," Ford finished lamely.

"What can I say, Sixer?" His brother sighed. "Punching me in the face didn't exactly - help with that.. Or tellin' me that you were kicking me out the moment summer was over. Those just… kind of gave out a certain impression, y'know what I mean?"

Ford opened his mouth, already preparing an indignant defense… and closed it.

If nothing else, he had learned in his time back on Earth not just when to admit that he was wrong, but how to do it. This was a conversation to be had somewhere other than the basement they had just almost died in, sometime when they weren't tired to the bone and struggling to keep themselves upright.

Perhaps it was a conversation never to be had at all in terms of words and arguments. One that would do, would've done, much better with actions and apologies.

Regardless, not here. Not now.

"I have to admit," Ford said evenly, "this all sounds very… sadistic. Like... some kind of cosmic joke. A poor one, at that. Didn't you make your deal with yourself?"

He paused, realizing he had no desire to delve into that specific tangle of identity issues and questions of existence now. " ...Ah, more or less. Did - did neither of you know the rules behind the bargain?"

"Well," his brother said, scratching his head. "I get why you ask. But you hafta keep in mind that ol' Six-Sights wasn't exactly an experienced con-whatever back then either. Baby eldritch consciousness' first soul-stealin' deal. That kinda thing."

"What I'm saying is. They... didn't really know what they were getting into, I didn't really know what I was getting into, and… there we went." Stan helpfully illustrated the magnitude of the ensuing disaster by wiggling his fingers of both hands widely. "Complete and utter disaster, classic end of the world kind'f stuff. Though... it could've gone much worse than it did. Much, much worse."

Stan lowered his voice to an aside. "And, ta tell ya the truth, I'm pretty sure the rules existed a paygrade or a twenty above us. Both of us. Six-Sights and I - we were just hopping along to some cosmic playbook."

"But surely, there must be something out that decided how this all works?" Ford exclaimed, aghast. "Some kind of creature that created them in the first place?"

"Well, whatever it is, it strikes me as something that smiles a whole lot. Plays a lotta cards." His brother paused in deep thought. "....Amphibious."

"Amphibious," Ford repeated blankly, a tiny spark of memory from his multiversal adventures nagging at him briefly before dying without much fanfare. Just a coincidence. "Amphibious?"

Stan smiled ruefully. "...Whatever it is, at least its got a soft spot for the misfits. The universe isn't usually too kind to a force of nature with a conscience, or a useless knucklehead who can't even scrub barnacles off a ship bottom."

Ford twitched.

"'Specially when the two are the one and the -"

"Don't."

Stan turned his head slowly to stare at the hand gripping his shoulder, bloodlessly tight. It takes Ford a moment too long to realize it's his own, that he had moved without even realizing it himself. It's an immediate reaction, that's what he will explain it to himself afterwards. Instinct.

"...Don't say that about yourself," Ford said haltingly. "You're not useless. Not by any measure. And -"

He doesn't know what to say for a long second, cursing his inability to speak even somewhat intelligently about his own thoughts and emotions. But what else was there to say? Just the idea of valuing his brother in those terms of worth and purpose felt unfamiliar and ridiculous.

(But he had, hadn't he?

He dispelled those thoughts with a grimace. That had been… long, long ago. A lifetime, by any standard. He had all of this one to prove himself wrong.)

Stan looked to Ford's face, then to his hand, then back again, clearly at a bit of a loss for words.

"Y'know," his brother said conversationally, an extra slight roughness at the edge of his voice. "I feel like I should be lookin' for a hidden spy camera. 'S like… like I'm waiting for that mindless reality TV guy to jump out of the floor screaming at the top of his lungs."

"There's - really no need to worry?" Ford offered, slightly confused with the direction the conversation had gone. "There are no hidden spy cameras in my laboratory. I've checked quite thoroughly."

"I didn't mean it seriously, Sixer -"

"...Other than the set gifted to me from the shadow government, of course."

Stan gives him a Look. "Y'know what," he said finally. "I'm not even gonna ask."

"But," Ford tried again, honestly feeling just a bit put out. "You do understand what I just -"

"No. Yeah. I do. It's just…" Stan dragged a hand down his face, obscuring his suddenly quiet voice in a way that Ford could barely hear what he was saying. "...Just, hard to believe. I mean I do," he added at the stricken look on Ford's face. "...Mostly. I need some… time, yeah. What can I say, a whole lot's happenin' and I'm just an old, old man -"

"We're the same age, Stanley."

"Well," his brother revised with a shrug, "then we're both old men, so I say we both need some sit-down time that isn't on a cold metal surface."

He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. "Y'know what sounds real good? That old armchair of mine, in front 'f the TV. Hugs my butt. Would hug yours too, I'm sure. Same butt."

"That's not how that works," Ford protested, before he could stop himself. "...Even if all of our physical features were identical at birth - which is already a false premise, considering we have a certain major difference - after my decades of running from the galactic police and your decades of…" He paused. "...Sitting on your couch watching melodramatic avian detective reruns -"

Stan scoffed. "Just cuz you don't appreciate a finely crafted children's show with multi-generational appeal -"

"My point is, Stanley. We do not have the same butt." Ford paused, then said with the straightest face he could muster, "Mine is clearly superior."

Stan gaped at him, and he really shouldn't feel as triumphant as he did about shocking his brother into speechlessness, not when he was fifty-eight years old.

That thought lasted for about two seconds before Ford decided that no, that was exactly why that had felt so good.

"You nerd," his brother said finally, disbelievingly. "Fine, y'know what? Great. Perfect. We'll go upstairs and you can plop your 'superior' wrinkly ass right in front of that TV. Watch all the ridiculous sci-fi series ya want. You've earned it."

Ford perked up at that. "Ridiculous sci-fi TV, you say?"

Stan rolled his eyes in familiar exasperation and reached up to peel Ford's hand from his shoulder. The moment his hand took hold of his, he froze. His expression was unreadable as he felt across the palm of the glove, and when he turned his hand into visibility, Ford could see why.

The surface of his glove had been utterly destroyed, torn and melted in equal intervals, especially impressive considering Ford had gotten them tailored with both fire-proof and knife-proof material. Bubbles of congealed vlastik, supposedly indestructible by the vast majority of forces in the universe, lined the edges of his hand.

And yet, the exposed skin of his hand was untouched. Literally, it seemed, because it was the soft, raw pink of newly regrown flesh - uncallused, unscarred, unrecognizable.

It matched perfectly the shade and hue of Stan's own extended hand and wrist, which presumably continued to the rest of his body. It does not take long for Ford to understand.

"Stan," he started, and his brother flinched immediately.

"...This isn't a conversation I'm having right now," Stan said loudly, as if he could block out the possibility by sheer force of will. "Nope, nope, nope."

Ford looked again at the new, new skin on his hand. What existed before had been dead, destroyed beyond all recovery. It had become a blank slate now, missing decades worth of history written down in healed white scars and telltale calluses. They… hadn't been the best memories, but they had made him him.

"I never wanted you to give up so much for me," he said quietly.

"It doesn't matter what you wanted, alright?" Stan snapped, an outburst that seemed to surprise both of them. "...It was what I wanted. Isn't -"

He faltered. "Isn't that enough?"

There was nothing Ford could say to that. For a single moment that felt like years, they stood, eyes locked and bodies tensed, neither willing to take that final step and break their delicate silence.

Then his brother sagged. "My balls are gonna fall right off if I hafta stay down here for another minute," he muttered.

The unexpected vulgarity of the statement killed all tension in the room near immediately. Ford winced, aghast. "Stanley."

"Look. We'll talk." Stan looked at him, a pained expression on his face. "I just - I really need pants for this conversation, alright?"

#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #atns #its been so long i forgot how to tag lol #my fic

[theyoungest-weasley]

James x Reader x Sirius

Request: could you do a James Potter x Reader x Sirius where Sirius likes reader but reader likes James and then reader and james start going out. Then Sirius starts making out with readers best friend so reader punches him in the face. everything gets resolved in the end!! thanks, i know it’s complicated. Love your blog btw <3

@potter-the-marauder i am so sorry this has taken so long to get up!!! my life has been a hectic mess lately and I'm trying to sort everything out. i have a group research paper and a group skit and a group presentation all in different classes. progress reports come out Wednesday and I'm also trying to get into Talented Visual Arts. I’ve also started seeing a physiologist weekly because of my OCD and i’ve been getting a ton of panic attacks lately. I promise I'm trying super hard to update as often as i can, but life’s been a little tough lately.

Also this is really fucking cheesy but i couldn't help myself.

p.s. not my best writing, this has been a shitty week. lmk if u want me to change it up or whatever or re-write.

____________________________________________________________________

“Hey, sweetheart,” Sirius greeted you as you sat down next to him at the Gryffindor table.

“Hey Sirius,” you rolled your eyes at him.

“So,” he took a deep breath, “you wanna go with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“Sirius,” you sighed, “you know I have feelings for someone else.”

As if on cue, James Potter sat down next to you, “You have what for someone else?”

You blushed and Sirius had a hard expression on his face, “Let me just do you both a favor; Y/n has feelings for you, James,” he stood up and walked out the Great Hall, leaving you with your face in your hands.

James chuckled awkwardly, “T-that was weird, right?”

You sighed, “Look, James. He’s r-right. I... do like you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and prepared yourself for rejection when al of the sudden you felt warm lips on yours. You opened your eyes in surprise. James Potter was kissing you. James Potter was kissing you!! Wait, James Potter was kissing you?

You pulled back, “W-wait, I don’t understand. You don't like me.”

“What?” James replied, shocked, “Y/n! Are you kidding me! I’ve had a crush on you since second year. I just... never thought you might.... I don't know, feel the same.”

You blushed and smiled, “W-well, I do.”

_____________________________________________________________________

It had been about a week since you and James had officially started dating, an you couldn't have been happier, but something was nipping at the back of your mind. 

Sirius.

He had done his very best to avoid you and James after you began dating. You knew he had liked you for a while and it hurt that your friend wouldn't talk to you just because you didn’t feel the same. James, being an oblivious twat (in an endearing way), had obviously not noticed his friend’s discomfort. You didn't want to bring it up, because- while you felt a little selfish -you didn't want James to break up with you for the sake of Sirius’s hurt feelings. 

You made your way to the Quidditch Pitch, where you were meeting James so you could play a small unorganized game with some of the other Gryffindors, when out of the corner of your eye you saw Sirius with some girl pinned up against a tree, making out furiously. You scoffed in disgust, he was such a player, the poor lass might not even know how she’ll be used and thrown away when he gets bored. As you walked passed you noticed how familiar the girl’s hair looked, how familiar she looked in general. Then, it hit you.

“Y/f/n!?” You shrieked, suddenly enraged. 

Sirius and y/f/n broke apart, your friend looked ashamed while Sirius had a knowing smirk on his lips. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing???!!” You stomped over to Sirius, you had ever been so angry in your entire life.

“Look, love,” Sirius began, obviously enjoying your furry, “I was just-”

*SMACK*

Your fist collided with Sirius’s jaw in one swift move and a harsh pop.

“Bastard!” You shouted. 

Sirius was groaning and holding his jaw.

“Y/n!?” You heard your.... boyfriend.

You turned to face James with wide eyes. How would you explain this?

“What happened?” James looked shocked, confused, and concerned.

Sirius spat on the ground and looked at with an angry sneer as you attempted to stutter out an explanation, “’Guess your girlfriend got a little jealous when she saw her best friend all over lil’ ole’ me.”

“What?” James looked at you, hurt, and your heart broke.

“No, James, I s-swear it wasn't- he was- I mean-”

“Save it,” James said calmly, but you heard the crack in his voice, “I guess were done.”

James walked off sadly in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch, broom dragging behind him, and you turned to Sirius. 

“You son of a bitch,” you almost laughed through your anger.

“Hey,” Sirius held up his hands in defense, “You’re the one who bloody punched me. Make up your mind, why don't you.”

Sirius and y/f/n walked away and you sat down on the ground, head in your hands. You had majorly fucked up.

____________________________________________________________________

You saw the sharp looks James and Sirius had been shooting at each other, and heard about the fights they’d gotten in. You couldn’t help but feel entirely responsible (bc u were, u btich), after all, none of this wold have happened if you had just stayed friends with them. But, you couldn't help the little flutter you got when Sirius winked at you, nor the explosive feeling in your heart when James entered the room.  

You had had some time to think, and you realized what you needed to do.

___________________________________________________________________

“Sirius,” you began, “We need to talk.”

He turned around and looked at you with an unreadable expression, “What is it?”

“Well, I,” you took a deep breath, “I know I got jealous when I saw you kissing y/f/n, and I know that I always get butterflies in my stomach when you wink at me, and I know that you have- or had- feelings for me,” you paused and he nodded, urging you to continue, “but,” he sighed, “but,” you continued, “I don’t love you. Not like that at least. And I think, I know, I love James.”

Sirius nodded once again and you laughed, “I mean, just the way he makes me feel, like my heart is going to implode and explode at the same time when he’d not even doing anything! When anything happens, at all, he's the first person I want to tell. The way, the way all those cheesy couples in Muggle movies look at each other, I want him to look at me like that. And I know, I know I may be a hopeless cause, he may never even look my way again, but I just can’t stop my heart from beating for him. The thought of him, feels like music. And whenever I think about him, or see him, I get that feeling. And it’s just that feeling that is so surreal and it feels like everything is right in the world and you feel like the world is ending but at the same time like life has never been better,” you laughed at your ridiculous rambling and took a breath, “and you just want it to stop because you can’t handle it but you also want to bottle it up because it’s so bloody amazing. And I know, I am not falling in love with James Potter, I’m flying in love with him. My heart will never hit the ground. There will be no fall, no end. I just want to be with him.”

Sirius looked as though he was about to cry, “That’s what I want. What you feel for James Potter; that’s what I want.”

You looked at Sirius expectantly and he continued, “I don't love you either, I guess,” he sounded like he had an epiphany, “I guess I just love the idea of love.”

“Is all that true?” You heard James’s voice from behind you. 

You and Sirius whipped around, both embarrassed about being overheard. 

“H-how much did you hear?” You stuttered out.

“Enough,” James began, “to know I’m fucking in love with you too.”

You stopped breathing for a moment and looked into his eyes, searching for a sign that he was joking, playing a prank. There was none.

You laughed and smiled, “I’m so sorry about everything that’s been happening the past few weeks I-”

James interrupted you by literally sweeping you off your feet and kissing you passionately. 

After a few moments you broke apart and smiled at each other.

“So,” Sirius chuckled, “I’m assuming we’re good?” he asked James.

“Yeah,” he smiled and tackled his best friend in a hug.”

“Sirius,” you got his attention, “James and I may be together, but stay away from y/f/n. Don’t ruin her.”

#sirius #sirius x reader #james x reader #james x reader x sirius #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #sirius black #sirius black imagine #marauders #marauders era #marauders era imagine #marauders era rp #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #hp #harry potter

[ohhhoneyhoney]

okay. so i just had a conversation with my other sister about our childhood, most specifically our dad, and i realized some things so for anyone who doesn't care about my personal life, i'm putting a readmore so you can skip this, but if you wanna learn more, feel free to come on this journey of self-realization with me

i've talked about my dad before; about how he wasn't the greatest, he was never around, i know next to nothing about him, etc. my dad was an alcoholic, like...a bad alcoholic. he would constantly be drinking, and i don't have a lot of memories of him, but the most clear thing i DO remember about him is how he smelled like beer. that's p messed up when you think about it, that i can barely remember his face but i knew his smell. and i don't just mean his breath, i mean he just smelled like beer...constantly. like it was oozing out his pores and he was just sweating it out.

but anyway. he was an alcoholic. we didn't have a lot of money growing up, mostly bc he couldn't hold down a "normal" job and any money my mom made went to paying our rent and buying his beer. to my mom's credit, she didn't just hand it over, like she would hide it from him, lie and say they didn't have any to spare. it was almost worse that way tho. i remember a story she told once, about one christmas when i was young where our maw-maw (grandma) bought us a lot of expensive toys and presents - and then my dad took all of that stuff, set it out in the parking lot of our closest gas station, sold it, and then turned right around and bought beer with it. he would sell anything he could to get beer money. he would LITERALLY SELL FOOD OUT OF OUR FREEZER for beer money. he would sell our food stamps. he would put shit in our STROLLERS to sneak it out of stores so he could sell it. he would steal from people and sell their stuff. for beer. he was in jail for so many years of my life, from stealing or fighting or other stupid shit he would get into. i know he did drugs, but i think that was more towards the end of his life.

anyway. finally my mom said enough is enough and she kicked him out. we only ever saw him once every few months, unless he didn't have a place to go, then he'd sleep on our couch for a few weeks before finding something better and taking off without even a goodbye. and i mean, he did try to stay sober sometimes. he'd go to rehab (usually as a court order, but rehab nonetheless) do a thirty-day program, come home and be sober for a few days or even a week...then he'd start drinking again.

i know now that he had a problem. he had an addiction. and i know now that he started drinking to self-medicate. i don't know much about his childhood, but from what my mom told me, it was bad. his mother was physically and mentally abusive. she had mental health issues as well, what i suspect were the same issues my dad had, and the drinking was a way that they had both started to manage the symptoms. anyone would swear that once my dad had just enough alcohol in him to be tipsy but not enough to be drunk, he was the nicest guy. my sister swears up and down that he was a great dad, that he goofed off with us, cleaned the house, made meals, set the table, was just...a great person to be around. but then he'd drink more, and he'd keep drinking, and then he would either pass out or just be as belligerent as you'd expect. i don't think he ever hit my mom, but i know that he physically threatened her several times. he wasn't the type of drunk who would take it out on a woman, but he'd sure as hell hit a man. he made a lot of stupid decisions while drunk

and i know now that he was couldn't stop. i'm no expert on addiction or alcoholism by far, but i know that if you have a problem with a substance and try to quit, it is difficult, and it is an uphill battle, and even then, sometimes you don't overcome. talking to my sister last week, and my other sister just tonight, i had a sudden epiphany about my feelings about my dad

i loved my dad. i was the youngest, so i don't remember a lot of the bad times, i just remember that he was my dad and i hardly ever got to see him, but when i did, i loved him, and i knew that i loved him

ten years ago, december 2008, he died. the circumstances are a bit foggy, all i know is: he was drinking, he was doing drugs, and one day his father went to check on him bc he hadn't heard from him from days, and he found him dead. he was living in a van at the time

when i found out he was dead, i was of course devastated. but once the sadness faded a bit, i realized that i was feeling something else, something bigger than grief. i was fucking angry. i was PISSED. i HATED him. my feelings for my dad went from unconditional love to overwhelming hatred in the space of a few hours, and for the past ten years, i've been carrying that anger around with me, bc in classic me fashion i just pushed it into the back of my mind and ignored it. and honestly? i had no idea why

then i was talking it over with my sisters, and i realized what it was. see, i knew my dad had an addiction. i knew he had a problem. i knew he had tried and failed in the past to overcome his addiction. and when he died, i was so pissed, so fucking livid, bc a part of me always assumed that one day, he'd manage to overcome it for good. i had hope that someday, he'd come knocking on our door, completely sober, and say "i'm sorry i wasn't there, but i promise to be there from now on" i just took it as a given that he'd get better, BE better, and that i'd finally have the dad that i never felt i had. and then he died, and that hope was ripped away, and i realized that it was never going to happen. i was upset bc we weren't enough, my mom and my sisters and my brother weren't enough, I wasn't enough. we weren't enough for him to finally find the strength to beat his addiction, and i was angry bc he was so weak that he could never pull himself up and out of the gutter he'd chosen to lie in, and i've remained angry all these years bc of it

i'm the queen of denial and ignorance. as long as i didn't think about my dad, as long as i didn't think about my anger, it wasn't real, it wasn't there, and i could just continue living my life. but that shit stays with you. that shit festers. i didn't realize until recently that i've been carrying around this anger and sadness and guilt. i didn't understand mental health then. i didn't understand addiction. i didn't understand feeling so down and empty and lifeless that you would turn to something so destructive just to feel something other than that. i struggle with depression. i know how it is to feel empty and lifeless. i think perhaps the only reason i haven't turned to alcohol or drugs is bc i saw how those things ruined my dad's life, my mom's, my own, and i don't want to continue that cycle. my dad self-medicated bc he didn't see a way out of that cycle. he grew up in a time when mental health wasn't something people understood, much less something they spoke openly about. i doubt he was ever even diagnosed. but he suffered from it every day of his life, and bc of his choices, so did we

anyway. this is a long rambly rant, and it's four in the morning so i'll end it here. i just wanted to get this off my chest, and if no one ever reads it but me, then hey! at least i can start the process of letting it go

#get to know kristy #mental health cw #alcoholism cw #addiction cw #idk i just want y'all to be prepared #i can't believe this is the more words than basically anything i wrote last year #and it's about my relationship with my long-dead father; yikes #this is really rambly #seriously feel free to skip past this mess

[cinderscoria]

i was 16 & i took three buses to get home every day from school, usually to an empty house. the commute was about 1 hour & then i was alone for another 3 hours before my parents came home. i realised one afternoon that i hadn't spoken a single word to anyone since i left the campus. it made me feel like nothing i did mattered & if i disappeared no one would care. i started swallowing pills but made myself puke them back up when my mum came home.

Yeah that sounds about right. I’m sorry. Would you classify that as trivial then? Kind of, a realization that may never change and all of a sudden you don’t wanna live like this anymore? I guess more so I’m collecting stories when it WAS trivial and ultimately pointless.

I think the first time I had… fought with one of my shift managers, I don’t remember what it was about, but the epiphany kind of swept over me and it was very sudden, and I was like if I don’t do this now I’m never gonna do it. The second time was also because of some fight I had at work, but this time I remember storming out and saying something along the lines of “don’t worry, you’ll never have to deal with me again.” I remember because I had caught the eye of one of my shift managers and she had… this look on her face. Like she knew. And she said something, I don’t remember, it was something like “see you tomorrow” or “goodbye” or something and it made me realize that she knew and it fucked me up, tbh, I probably would’ve done it if it weren’t for that look. Or maybe not, I dunno, that time I stopped myself but I think it’s only bc I had tried before and the consequences sucked and there were too many uncertainties the next time? I sat in the library parking lot with my pills and cried for almost two hours before I just. drove home and collapsed on my bed I think.

Both times were stupid things, is all I’m saying. I’ve experienced some major trauma in my life that didn’t result in me TRYING–maybe me feeling like it, but not me actively getting up and trying, and that’s just really odd to me and I want to know if it’s the same for other people.

#suicide tw #cinder's asks #i'm glad you're still here friend but i'm sorry you went through that #or are still going through that #i know i don't talk about it much but maybe it's time to talk about it #i'm therapist-less for the foreseeable future i need SOME form of outlet i'm sorry guys

[gilbertandanne]

You ever just have one of those a-ha!/epiphany!/i-can-save-the-world moments when plotting? Bc I just did with a dramedy (heavy on the edy) pilot that I'm writing and boy is it SO satisfying. I was struggling with finding the key to one element of the show, which in turn was confusing me on what the overall theme would be, and all of a sudden BAM! It comes and it's perfect! AHHH!

Let me just say that I think 10% of the reason I write is because of these moments. They’re such an amazing adrenaline rush and you sit there like “of course!! That fits perfectly and it looks like that was the plan the entire time!”

It’s happened with EVERY multi-chapter I’ve written. A little example is with the fic I’m doing right now. Originally I never had Riley overhear what Lucas said to Zay in chapter 6 (I think it was 6 😬). As I went back through that chapter (like MINUTES before posting it), I realized that something with the setup was missing (cause I knew I had a flashback coming), one last little punch to make her doubt everything going on between them. One paragraph and a little direction was all it took to make it more realistic as to why she couldn’t bring herself to believe what he was saying to her.

I’ve had bigger moments than that happen…like MASSIVE ones, but that’s one that comes to recent memory.

It’s a rush when you find that missing piece. I love that feeling and I’m so so so glad you found it too!! You’ve got me super amped about your pilot!! I’m sure it’s amazing! I love a good dramedy. Comedy is so tough. Definitely applauding you for going for it!